


Well, I'll be damned.

by Mountainmarie



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Amnesia, Crimes & Criminals, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Guns, Horses, Humor, Mutual Pining, Red Dead Redemption 2 Spoilers, Temporary Amnesia, more to come - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2019-11-05 07:40:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 34,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17914643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mountainmarie/pseuds/Mountainmarie
Summary: A young Arthur Morgan finds a younger you injured and alone in the woods. Years later, you're inseparable.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! I hope you enjoy this story, if you have any critiques, questions, or comments, I'd love to hear them! Thank you immensely for taking the time to read this, I hope you enjoy it! Also, the first chapter is short because it's just a little bit of back story.
> 
> -Also, disclaimer, I do not own the characters of RDR2, any of the dialogue spoken in the game that is repeated at times here.-

It was just past dawn and you found yourself lying face up the middle of the forest, coyotes howling somewhere far off, but seeming too close. You groaned, feeling your sore muscles and aching bones beneath you skin. You rubbed your head, bit knowing where that huge know had come from or what had caused it. The sun had just made its way over the crest of the large hill in front of you and you tried to push yourself up off the ground. Your hands burned as you pushed them into the dirt and native grass, you looked down at your palms, blood seeping out of the cracked, dirt filled skin. ‘Damn rope burn.’ You thought.

 

You looked down at the ground, wondering what had happened that you ended up alone, in the woods, with a knot on your head. Blood splattered across the grass at your feet, you weren't sure if it was yours or someone else, but the blood slowly trickling down your face from the gash at your hairline suggested the first. You looked near your feet and saw a large rock jutting out of the soil, blood painted in one area. 

‘Well, if I were to make an “educated” guess, that’s probably where I hit my head’ You thought to yourself, one less question to answer. You wracked your brain as you scouted the area, what were you doing out here? ‘Pack String.’ You thought. ‘We were taking supplies somewhere, but where?’ You didn't know how far you were from the road, but you knew that you had to get to civilization soon. The mountain air was cold and frigid, it was late summer, leaving the days tolerable and the nights below freezing. A shiver ran though you as your adrenaline began to subside and the realization set in that you had no clue where in the hell you were.

‘Don’t panic.’ You told yourself. You reached into the pocket of your muddy jeans, pulling out a pocket knife. At least you remembered that you always carried a knife. You took the edge of your shirt tail and cut a couple inches above the seam, folding up the cloth, you placed it to your head would and pressed. 

 

Keeping the cloth to your forehead, you walked in the direction you thought would be the nearest trail. The sun had fully come up, shining down onto the tops of the aspens and pines of the forest. The walk wasn't terrible, but your body sure as hell was sore and your tongue was getting pretty dry. You picked stalks of the tall grasses at your feet and sucked on the ends, trying to quench you thirst, but also giving yourself something to focus on. The ground began to slope downward, and you noticed the familiar brown of a worn trail and the zig-zags of the switchbacks as they made their way down the side of the hill. A flood of relief washed over you. 

‘About damn time’ You told yourself. Sitting down on the edge of the trail, you chewed on the end of some grass, waiting. 

 

The recognizable sound of hooves on hard soil immediately brought your attention to the rider coming up the trail. “Hey Mister!” you called, your voice hoarse and cracked, sounding nothing like yourself. The rider stopped and looked at you. “Damn girl. What the hell happened to you?” You looked at the man, his light brown hair blew slightly in the wind, his face was young, but his deep blue eyes seemed like they'd seen far more than a man his age should’ve.

“Could I get a ride?” You tried to feign a smile but you felt the wound on your forehead begin to crack with the movement. “Ma’am, the only place I'm giving you a ride to is the doctor.” Without saying a word he reached out his hand, helping you up. “Whats your name miss?” You turned to him, your concussed mind hardly focused. “Um, I’m Y/N.” He nodded. “Arthur.” he said, holding onto your shoulders as he walked you to his horse.


	2. Burnt Coffee and Welcome Invitations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been years since Arthur first found you in the forest. Now you're a part of the gang and wondering how you feel about this man who saved your life so many years ago and what you're going to do about it.

You woke to the smell of Pearson's burnt coffee drifting from the fire to your tent. You rolled over in your bedroll, the canvas rusting as you shifted beneath it. It had been 7 years since the day that Arthur found you on the side of the trail in the West Grizzlies with blood on your face and a nasty concussion. You were seventeen when he found you and you still aren't sure of what happened, just that Arthur had saved your life; a fact he never seems to let you forget.

 

You get out of bed, the morning cold always seems to have that familiar but rough bite as you shimmy into your jeans and button your blouse. You comb and braid your knotted hair, pushing back the fly aways under your hat as you make your way to the fire for breakfast. You can hear the grasshoppers and the rustle of the wind through the tops of the trees, its a beautiful morning. “Mrs. Y/N.” Pearson says, handing you the tin plate with a biscuit smothered in elk Gravy along with a fork. “Thank you kindly, Pearson.” You tell him as you take a seat next to Arthur by the fire. 

 

“Mornin.” He grumbles, sipping his coffee. His face has changed in the last few years, the clean shaven, shaggy haired teen has been replaced by a thick mustached, pomade using, man. “Morning, Arthur.” You reply, setting your plate on your knee, ready to dig in. You take a bite and look away from the plate in your hand, observing the camp as people shuffle out for food. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a fork coming for your biscuit, snatching a bite before you can react.

 

“Hey!’ you yell. It was too late, Arthur looked at you smiling as he chewed on his latest prize. “Damn you!” You hit him in the arm, beating a laugh out of him. “What?!” He feigned innocence. “Damn it Arthur, you know Pearson doesn't give out seconds!” Arthur smiled at you, taking a sip of his coffee while looking at you over the edge of his cup. “Well girl, you should know better than to take your eye off of your things when you live in a camp with thieves and conmen!” You rolled your eyes at him, cutting another site off of your biscuit. “And hungry thieves at that!” He quipped, reaching for another bite of your breakfast as you pulled your plate away. “I’m about to kick some hungry thieves ass if he don't keep his hands to himself.” You half yelled with a smile. Hosea, Lenny, and Charles laughed from across the fire, shaking their heads as they scarfed down the meal.

 

You brought your plate to Abigail, who was doing dishes when you were finished. “Thanks for cleaning up after us.” You told her. “Thanks for keeping Arthur in line.” She replied, offering you a wink as she tended to her work. As you walked to your tent, you wondered what she’d meant by the wink, she’d never done that before… Then again, you and her had talked many times about how you felt about Arthur. You’d always been sweet on Arthur, but it never seemed like the right time. When he first picked you up, you were smitten. You’d thought it was just the fact that you'd nearly split your head open that you were seeing butterflies, but even after the doc prescribed you some Laudanum and you got better, they've stuck around moving from your brain to your belly. 

 

You grabbed your satchel from your tent, putting on your jacket and checking how much ammo you had. “Knock, Knock.” You heard from the door of your tent. Turning, you see Arthur standing there, pulling off his gloves. He takes a seat on a stump you’ve set in the edge of your tent. “So.” He begins. “So.” You mock him in a low voice. He gives you a playful glare, “So.” he says firmly. “What are you doing today.” You turn to face him, setting your satchel down on the flimsy table between the two of you. “Well, I’m not sure yet.” You tell him, sitting down on the stump adjacent to him. “I figured I’d head into Blackwater and see if I can’t figure something out. Why? Got something else in mind?” Arthur pursed his lips, his mustache scrunching up at the action. “Nah, not really. Pearson said were about out of meat, I figured I might go out for a hunt if you'd like to come along.” 

 

Your eyes lit up, anytime you were able to get out of camp was a joy, and anytime you were able to have one on one time with Arthur was even better. “Absolutely!” You agreed. He offered you a slight smile and nodded; he could often be a man of few words. “Is it going to be an overnight trip?” You asked, wondering if he could pick up on the glimmer of hope that inflected in your voice. “Might be, I’m not sure, but pack your bedroll just incase.” “Sure. I’ll get loaded up, meet you by the horses in a few minutes?” He stood from the stump where he sat. “Shore” he responded as he made his way from the tent. 

 

You hoped that you didn't seem too eager, bouncing around camp as you saddled your horse, grabbed provisions from Pearson, tied your bedroll on your horse, and stuck your rifle in the scabbard on your saddle. Arthur was at his horse, Bodecia, tying on his supplies as you approached. “I grabbed food from Pearson and I’ve got plenty of ammunition, anything else we need?” He finished bridling his mare and turned to you, “No.” He shook his head. “I think we’re all set, just need you along to help me skin all the animals I get.” He flashed you a sassy smile. You couldn’t help but laugh, giving him a light shove. “My ass, Morgan.” You put your leg in the stirrup and mounted your buckskin gelding. “You mean all the animals I kill?” Arthur laughed, leading the way out of camp.


	3. The Hunting Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and you ride out to go hunting. The night life includes good food, more backstory, a little cobbler, and even some singing!

The road out of camp was familiar and welcoming. You rode behind Arthur, leading a pack horse behind you in silence as the two of you made your way out into the treeless plains and over the river into west Elizabeth. The day was beautiful, it always did your heart well to ride, letting your mind warder as you rode farther from the hustle and bustle of civilization. It was mid summer, the days usually stifling hot, but there was a breeze from the north that cooled the day. The two of you had been riding for a couple of hours and were nearing Arthurs favorite hunting spot near the Dakota River, it was mid afternoon and the sun shone down on your hat.

 

“We’re almost there.” Arthur yelled back at you. “Once we get there, set up camp and use the last few hours of light to see if we cant get anything.” He looked over his shoulder as he talked to you. “Good plan, Boss.” You quipped. He turned in the saddle to face you, “What did you say?” you smiled at him. “I said. Okay Boss..” You repeated, the inflection in your voice hinting at sarcasm. “I ain’t nobodies boss, Y/N!” He shook his head. “Besides if I was by some awful reason your boss, I’d fire ya!” You heard him laugh as he turned himself forward.

 

The two of you finally made it to a good place to camp. You pitched the tent while Arthur laid out your bedrolls and gathered some wood for a fire, you’d be lying if you said you didn't get a little bit distracted as you watched him chop kindling with an ax. With the tent set up, you tied the horses to some trees, grabbed your binoculars, rifles, and knives to head out. “Alright, Morgan.” You said. “I’ll bet you a peach cobbler that I take get something before you do.” He looked at you with wild eyes. “Well be prepared to make me a cobbler then!” He smiled at you as the two of you hiked into the woods. You kept low an quiet, Arthur pointed at some deer tracks just in front of you. You nodded, both of you silently following them. You tracked the deer for about 300 yards, stopping every now and again to glass the area in front of you. You were beginning to come out of the woods, almost to the river. Arthur motioned for the two of you to stop. He pointed quietly to the herd of deer gathered around the edge of the Dakota river. Soundlessly, you pulled out your Carcano Rifle, pulling the bolt back, and pushing it forward, putting a bullet in the chamber. You pulled the rifle to your shoulder and looked through the scope, three does and a buck.

 

“I’ll get the buck.” You whisper to Arthur. “Okay.” He replies, “You go.” You line up the buck in your sights, putting the crosshair right behind its shoulder. You exhale as you pull back the trigger, the bullet cracks and the rifle kicks into your shoulder. You heard Arthurs shot follow yours, unsure which doe he chose. You keep your eye on the buck, it went down, but you could see it still thrashing. You lined its head up in your sights, and took another shot, this time, putting it down. 

 

The rest of the does had scattered, the buck and another doe laying in the rocks motionless. “Well, Ill be taking that cobbler soon Arthur.” You put the safety on and made sure there was nothing in the chamber of your rifle, then you swung your rifle over your shoulder. “What?” Arthur protested. “I say that you owe me one! I got that doe in one short, it took you two.” You shook your head as you walked to the animals. “No sir!” You set your rifle on against a boulder near the buck, pulling your knife from the sheath on your belt. “That wasn't the deal Arthur, the deal was I bet you a peach cobbler that I’d shoot something before you did.” Arthur had his knife out and began to skin the doe at his feet. “No, you said, “Arthur I bet you a peach cobbler i kill something before you.” He mocked you, pushing his voice up an octave. You rolled your eyes as you continued your work. “I’m just saying, this doe was dead before your buck was.” Arthur looked at you as he began quartering his deer, watching for your reaction. “I’ll give you that, but that wasn't the grounds of the bet!” You protested. “So no peach cobbler for you!” 

 

The two of you gathered your kills and packed them back to camp as the sun began to set. Arthur started a fire and you grabbed the dutch oven out of the tent and began cutting up some carrots, potatoes, and rabbit for some stew. Arthur brewed some coffee while you prepared dinner. The two of you sat on the ground near each other while the stew began to cook. “I’m still expecting a Peach cobbler when we get back to camp, Y/N.” You picked a dirt clod up from where you were sitting and threw it at him. “Well you're setting yourself up for disappointment.” Arthur caught the clod and rolled it around between his fingers. “You know I did save your life once.” He looked at the crumbling soil in his hand. “I think a cobbler is the least you can do.” You let out an exaggerated sigh, “Will you ever let me live that down?” You laughed. He smiled back at you, shaking his head.

 

“Arthur.” You asked. “Mmhm?” He looked at you, his blue eyes reflecting the dancing flame. “I do really wish that I had remembered what had happened that day.” He nodded slowly, listening as you spoke. “All I can remember is that my father and I were taking supplies up to the high mountain camps in the West Grizzlies. I was leading that pack string, something I’d been doing for my whole life, and then I woke up on the ground with my head gashed open.” Arthur looked at you, a soft expression on his face. “I just wish I knew what happened to my dad and the horses and why I got thrown off my horse and into the rock.” Arthur never took his eyes off you, listening as you questioned the events of the day. “Arthur, you’ve never really talked about what you think might’ve happened.” 

 

Arthur looked down at the fire, taking a long drink form his tin cup. “Well, I’m honestly not sure.” the edge of his mouth tugged upwards. “I don't know that I’ve ever told you this, but I went back there while you were getting patched up by the doctor.” This was new information, you stared at him intently, hearing every word. “I just wanted to look around, see if you’d forgotten anything or if I could find you some answers cause talking to you as I took you to the doc’s, well, lets just say you were a little loopy.” The two of you laughed a little. “When I got to the spot where I’d picked you up, I followed the nice bloody and zig-zagging trail back to a boulder with blood on it. I’d figured thats where you hit your head.” You took a drink of your coffee, then leaned up to stir the stew. “I didn't see much of anything, just a patch of grass that was flattened where you landed, and hoof prints that took off up the mountain.” 

You put the lid back on the dutch oven and fixed your eyes on Arthur. “I followed the hoof prints part of the way up the mountain and found some supplies scattered through the trees, telling me that your pack horses took off in a hurry and pitched their load along the way. I continued to follow the trail of supplies, but I’d been gone for a while by then and I didn't want the doctor to toss you out on your head after he’d just fixed it.” You smiled at his joke. “By that point, I was nearing a big camp of O’Driscoll’s and I knew I wouldn't be able to take all of them on my own. So, I headed back and hoped you’d come be a part of the group.” You couldn't hep but pick up that he "hoped" you'd become a part of the group. 

 

You sat there eyes moving from Arthur and back towards the fire. You didn't know how to feel about this information, you supposed it didn't make much of a difference, but you still felt the hot sting of tears welling in your eyes. ‘Don’t cry Y/N.’ You told yourself, thinking back to your father and how he would always try and make things better when you started to cry. He always was gentle and kind, raising you on your own since your mother had died when you were just three from Pneumonia. You forced yourself to swallow the emotion welling inside you, sitting up to stir the stew that was almost ready. Arthur looked at you, his face feigned with worry. “Y/N?” he asked. You turned to face him, “Arthur.” You mirrored. 

 

You dished out the stew, the two of you ate in silence. “Arthur.” You broke the quiet of the night. “Why didn't you tell me this earlier?” Arthur shifted his body, uncrossing his legs. “Well, the time never seemed right, until now, that is.” he said. ‘Wow, doesn't that sound familiar.” you thought to yourself and your confusing feelings about the man across the fire. “I hope I didn't upset you.” He looked at you. You shook your head, “No, Arthur, thank you for telling me.” He breathed deeply. “I just never wanted you to become angry and act on revenge. Revenge is a fools game and I didn't want you to end up down that hole like I’ve seen so many others fall down. You deserved better, still do.” You couldn’t help but stare at him, wishing he would fill the feet between the two of you. “I appreciate you saying that, Arthur.” He nodded. “I know I ain’t the most emotional guy around, but if ever you need to talk, well, I can listen pretty good.” He took another bite from his stew. “Arthur Morgan, the therapist huh?” you laughed.

 

The two of you finished off the stew and you walked down to the stream to wash out the dutch oven. Arthur walked with you, humming as thew two of you made your way to the creek. “Sure is pretty tonight.” Arthur said, looking up at the clear night sky. “Sure is.” you replied, looking up as you filled the dish with water. “Sure is.” You heard Arthur repeat. You looked up from your task and saw him staring at you as he repeated your words. You looked down at the water, thankful the night masked the blush growing on your cheeks. The two of you made it back to camp and you snuck into the tent while he began to write in his journal. You had packed the supplied needed for cobbler in your saddle bad, sneakily mixing the ingredients and thankful that the legs didn't break on the way over. You couldn’t help but smile as you whipped up his favorite treat, sneaking it out to the fire in the dutch oven, letting it cook over the flames. 

 

You sat nearer to Arthur, watching for a moment as he scribbled and drew in his journal, in the 7 years that you'd known him, he never went anywhere without it. At the end of almost everyday, he’d write a few lines and maybe sketch a little, but it was always when the two of you were out of camp or he was alone that he’d really take his time drawing. He finally looked up and closed his journal, oblivious to what had just happened. He looked at you and smiled, then looked to the fire. “What’s that?” he asked, turning to face you. “Whats what?” you played coy. “That dutch oven! We just cleaned it, whatchu making now girl?” He pointed at the oven, his voice excited. “Oh, that.” You stated. “It’s just a little something, but not because you won the bet.” His eyes lit up. “Ohhhh, you sure know how to charm a man, Y/N.” Your heart began to race, hoping that you were indeed charming him. “It’s just a thank you for saving my life all those years ago.” He grinned at you, “I accept this thank you, gladly.” You laughed and leaned back on your hands.

 

“There actually is a cost to the cobbler though.” You faced Arthur, sitting up strait. “Oh, whats that?” he asked. “Well, you’ve got to provide us with a little entertainment while it cooks.” He turned to you giving you an unamused look. “Oh come on Arthur!” you pleaded. “You sing sometimes, please just sing a song for me.” He threw his head back in protest. He sang to you from time to time, not when you were around the gang, but on nights like this, he would sing you a song or two. It was a sort of secret you kept, but one that you loved to get to hear. “Fine, Y/N. But this better be the best damned cobbler I’ve ever had if I gotta sing for it.” You couldn't help as a smile covered your face and you heard him clear his throat. 

“I wish, I wish my baby was born  
And sittin' on its papa's knee  
And me, poor girl  
And me, poor girl, were dead and gone  
And the green grass growin' o'er my feet  
I ain't ahead, nor never will be  
'Till the sweet apple grows  
On a the sour apple tree  
But still I hope the time will come  
When you and I shall be as one.”

You were completely mesmerized as he sang to you, the grasses, and the stars. You’d never heard this song, but it took you to a place of sadness and you could see in his face that it did the same to him too. 

“I wish I wish my love had died  
And sent his soul to wander free  
Then we might need our ribbons five  
Let our poor body rest in peace  
The owl, the owl  
Is a lonely bird  
It chills my heart  
With dread and terror  
That someone's blood  
There on his wings  
That someone's blood  
There on his feathers”

You stared at him as he finished the song. After the final notes, he got up from the fire, took your cup from your hands and poured himself and you another cup of coffee. “I’ve never heard that song.” You told him as he handed you the steaming cup. He sat back down in the dirt next to you. “Yea, I knew an old veteran of the war back when I was a kid, he told me his stories and shared that song with me. I used to stay with him when my father was running from the law or robbing whoever. He sang it to me a lot.” You watched his eyes as he told the story, the way they lit up at the memories he talked of and the sadness that seemed to seep in between it. “Well, thanks to your song, the wait didn't seem as long.” You got up and took the lid off the dutch oven, grabbing two spoons you set it between the two of you. “Dig in, Morgan.” You handed him a spoon. “Gladly.” He said with a wink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I just wanted to let you all know that there is a beautiful rendition of the song Arthur sings in this chapter from the movie "Cold Mountain." It's called "I wish my baby was born." Thanks again, I hope you're enjoying it, there is more to come!


	4. Hot Water and Hot Cheeks (The face kind, sorry)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for some laundry and conversation. Oh, and a plan from Dutch.

The next morning the two of you headed back into camp, bringing your hard earned meat to Pearson who greeted the two of you with a smile. “Hey Micah.” Pearson cooed at the sour cowboy, “Look, Y/N and Arthur brought in a pile of meat, what the hell have you brought in lately?” Micah looked at the balding man, a scowl invading his face and a grumble escaping his mouth as he walked in the opposite direction.

 

You couldn't help but crack a smile at Pearson of calling Micah out for not giving his share since Micah had joined, you really hadn't gotten along with him. At first, he seemed really great, but that quickly changed when you went on your first run with him and saw him just outright kill a stagecoach driver who did everything Micah asked as you robbed him. After looting the coach, Micah just killed the man for what seemed like his idea of fun. 

 

You and Arthur went to your respective tents, putting your supplies away. You decided to do some laundry and thought you could do some other peoples as well, so, you made your rounds, asking anybody if they wanted anything washed. Hosea gave you a pair of pants, Javier gave you a shirt, Tilly threw in a pair of stockings, and Abigail gave you a few tiny garments of Jacks. With your arms full, you stopped at Arthurs tent, offering a “Knock, Knock” as you came in. He was sitting on his cot, sketching something in his journal. “Hey, Arthur.” He looked up and quickly closed his journal. “Oh, Hey, Y/N.” You watched as he suspiciously tucked his journal underneath his leg. “I was just doing some washing, did you need anything washed?” you asked. “Yea, actually.” He stood up from where he sat and started to dig through the small wooden trunk at the foot of his bed. “I’ve got quite a few things to wash actually, mind if I just join ya?” 

 

The two of you headed to the creek, clothes, an ax and a large pot from Pearson's Chuckwagon in hand. You grabbed some wood and began to chop some kindling so you could begin heating the water. With each swing, you brought your arms back and swore you could see Arthur staring at you. For a moment, you wanted to catch him doing it, but then you decided you wanted him to stare, so you kept your eyes to the task at hand. You started a fire and let it build, then sat the fat, full, pot on top and waited for the water to boil. Arthur hadn't said much since the two of you left his tent and he was still pouring over his journal, the songs of birds and the gentle flow of the streams filled the silence. 

 

“So, Morgan.” Arthur looked up, meeting your gaze. “What are you scribbling in that journal?” You saw a blush creep up upon his cheeks. “Uh, nothing much.” He tried to play it off casually. “I-ah, just drawing a little, that's all.” You couldn't help but smile at the way he became bashful at your inquiry, but it made you want to know what it was even more. “Can I take a look?” Arthur looked like he had been shot or called a coward, his eyes wide and face defensive. “Well, it's not done yet, so, no.” He shook his head. “Okay,” You began, “I can see it when it’s done then.” He gave you the stink-eye, but you could see a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

 

You tossed everybody laundry into the large pot and lathered them all on the bar of soap you'd brought along, making large bubbles as the clothes stirred. “Y/N?” you looked up from the pot and at Arthur. “Yea?” “You ever wish you hadn't come join us? I mean, do you ever think about what life woulda been like if some, say, rancher or fancy hat wearing banker had picked you up?” You laughed at the thought of some fancy baker picking you up, all bloodied and battered and sticking you in his stagecoach. “Well, I think that banker would’ve been mighty mad if I’d gotten blood on his suit. Arthur laughed at your comment. “But, truly, I don't know. I never have been one to dwell on things, but I suppose my life would certainly be different.” Arthur nodded. “But,” You continued, “ I could never have been a part of a bankers family, or a fancy town wife or anything like that. I love the mountains, horses, and this type of outdoor and country life too much to have been anything too different.” Arthur smiled at the sentiment. “What about you Arthur? Is that something you’ve thought about?” 

 

He looked at the pot between the two of you and sat himself upon his knees. “I’ve thought about how things mighta been different sure.” He nodded a little, looking at you. “I mean knowing you, I could never see ya in some fancy city, wearing a bustle or anything. But you know if that handsome devil hadn't come riding in on that old sorrel mare, you probably wouldn't have made it…” Arthur waited for your reaction. “Oh bull shit!” you half yelled, smiling ear to ear. Arthur laughed, shielding himself from your playful hits. “nah,” He said after the two of you sat back down. “You know, Y/N, I honestly think you woulda found your way to us somehow. I hate to compare you to a buncha no good, greasy, stinky, outlaws, but some days, I think you were meant to be here with us.” You felt the heat in your face rise, was it the steam from the laundry or the sentiment from Arthur. You couldn’t seem to look away from him, his blue eyes piercing yours. 

 

“Well,” Arthur broke the silence and your gaze. “I’m not a laundry expert, but I reckon these clothes are done.” You nodded and the two of you dumped the pot, rinsed the clothes in the creek, and wrung them out. You packed the wet clothes and the pot back to camp, walking as close to Arthur as you could without him realizing you were trying to.

 

Pearson had made the venison you’d brought for dinner. A good old stew, just like always. “Hey, Pearson?” You pipped up, holding the stew close to your face. “Is stew the only thing the Navy taught you how to make?” The chairs around the campfire erupted into fits of laughter, Pearson didn't look amused, but you saw a smile at the corner of his mouth. “Ha-Ha, Y/N. You know they say you should never bite the hand that feeds you.” This earned a few “ooh”’s from the peanut gallery. “Yea well, trust me Pearson, with your bathing habits, I wouldn't want your hands anywhere near my mouth.” More giggles came from the gang. “You know, Y/N.” Arthur chimed in. “You’ve made a good point, those hands you don't want near your mouth, made this stew. That means you've got Pearson’s hands all in your mouth.” You made a face of fake disgust, earning a laugh from both Pearson and Micah. 

 

You had always been able to tease Pearson, he had a soft spot for you. You tried your best to bring him good, fresh, supplies, and you even helped him with dinner a couple of times a week. He’d often slip you an extra apple or a can of peaches, he truly was sweet under that burly attitude. 

 

Dinner finished and dishes were done. Hosea had begun telling all the gals a story about his lost love, Bessie. You could see young Jenny crying from where you sat, you couldn't help but smile. “What you grinnin about?” Arthur prodded you with his arm. “Nothing!” you said defensively. “Uh-huh.” Arthur put his tongue in his cheek. “I know that smile.” You looked at him, wondering what he was going to say. “That smile means tha-“ “Arthur, Y/N. Hows the evening?” Dutch cut Arthur off and sat next to the two of you. “Hey Dutch,” You said. He pulled a flask from the inside of his red, paisley, vest and handed it to you. The sweet burn of whiskey met your lips and fell down your throat. “Fine Evening ain't it?” Dutch said. “Y/N, You sure know how to make a group laugh. I was nearly in tears when you were giving all that sass to Pearson.” You let out a laugh and earned one from the two men. “She sure is ornery ain't she, Dutch?” Arthur took the flask from your hand. “She sure is.” He nodded, smiling. “I remember when you first brought her to us. She was all banged up and I introduced myself and asked her how she was doing.” He began to giggle at the story before he'd even gotten to the point. Arthur had joined him. “And-“ more giggling from the two of them. “And, she said.” Dutch composed himself. “Well, how the hell do I look there, pal? Dammit, the first person to pick me up brings me to a clan of blind people!” The three of you couldn't contain yourselves, passing the flask between each other and laughing like fools.

 

Dutch shared some stories of his wild, younger days, while Arthur shared Dutch’s embarrassing drunk stories. “And then, he threw up into the wind at a full lope. You can imagine what happened, Y/N. It went right back to where it came from and all over poor Hosea who was riding behind him!” Arthurs laughter and smile were infectious, he was such a happy drunk. The three of you finished the flask quickly and Dutch pulled a bottle of Rum from somewhere, passing it around with a pack of cigarettes. You put three cigarettes in your mouth, lighting all three and handing one to Dutch and one to Arthur. You breathed in the smoke and blew it towards the fire. “I’ve got a damn good story about Arthur,” Dutch said, squinting at you with a sly grin. You felt Arthur stiffen next to you. ‘This ought to be good’ you thought. “So Arthur has always had a thing for pretty, Y/HC, girls. You felt your cheeks go flush and the whiskey in your stomach spin. “Aw Dutch, no.” Arthur pleaded. “Now son, I’m not going to embarrass you….to badly.” Dutch put his hand up, his cigarette smoking as he moved it. “When this man brought you to live with us, I could tell right away that he was sweet on you.” You couldn't resist smiling, looking at Arthur who looked at you and playfully rolled his eyes. “How could you tell?” you asked. Dutch smirked, “I could tell because ever since that day he started using Pomade!” Dutch burst into a fit of laughter, thinking that this story was the best thing he'd ever told. You and Arthur laughed at Dutch and shook your heads at each other. You wanted to know though, was Arthur sweet on you?

 

Dutch recovered and leaned in close to the two of you. “On a business note.” The two of you nodded, knowing it was time to get serious. “Micah got us a lead.” You felt a drop in your stomach, it didn't feel right and you didn't even know what it was. “He said that there is a Ferry in Blackwater, a big one. It’s got a ton of money and plenty of rich passengers to harass. I think this could give us a big break, give us the money to head west. Its happening tomorrow night, get your guns and your things ready, we're gonna have to get out of here fast.” You and Arthur sat in silence, digesting the plan Dutch had just shared with you. “Grimshaw, Pearson, and the girls will get us all packed up tomorrow night. I need both of you on the boat with me. I’ll give you the details tomorrow when we all sober up.” He grabbed each of you by one shoulder. “Enjoy the night, this time tomorrow, were home free!” He stood up and began to walk to his tent. 

 

You looked at Arthur and he offered you a weak smile. “Well, Morgan.” You stood up. “I think I’d better get to bed, sounds like a big day tomorrow.” He stood up too. “Yea. I’ll walk you to your tent.” The two of you began walking the short distance to your tent. “You know, that stuff Dutch was saying..” Arthur began to try to explain himself. “You don't have to explain yourself, Arthur.” He laughed a little and gave you a nod. “Well, he was right in saying I have a thing for Y/HC.” You felt the same heat begin to rise as the steam from the laundry. He looked at you, his blue eyes seemed to see so much more than he let on. “And, you’ve always been incredibly pretty.” Arthur took a step closer to you, you mirrored his step. “You’re not so bad yourself, Morgan. Some might say ‘Devilishly Handsome’.” He cracked a smile at your statement. You kept inching toward one another, the space between you diminishing. “Hey, Arthur!” Hosea yelled, breaking up whatever was about to happen. “Arthur, remember when you bought those fish?!” The group around him erupted, giggling, and smiling. 

 

The two of you couldn't help but do the same. “Well, Y/N, I’ll let you get rested.” You nodded, disappointed. “Arthur?” he turned around from walking away. “Arthur, I don't have a good feeling about tomorrow.” He pursed his lips and bit his lip. “Y/N, I don't either.” You looked at the ground a sick feeling creeping up. “But.” He continued. “I trust Dutch and if he thinks we can do it, then we damn well’d better try.” You didn't like that answer, but you knew he was right. “Don’t worry yourself too bad, darlin. It’ll be okay.” “Alright, Goodnight, Arthur.” “Goodnight, Y/N.”


	5. Bathing in the creek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You go to the creek to bathe, but who shows up?

The morning came with a slight headache, Dutch always was good at getting people drunk. The sick feeling you’d felt about the plan dutch had shared with you was still lingering in your stomach, you knew it wasn't the alcohol. You got up, got semi-dressed, and decided that based upon the smell coming from your underarms and the grease that occupied your hair that it was time for a bath. You grabbed your soap, Pearson’s pot, a pitcher, matches, some kindling, and a towel. You were the type of person that liked to go the extra mile and warm up at least some water. You walked yourself down to the creek, noticing the camp was quiet and everyone seemed to be sleeping. You always were the early riser of the group.

 

You began to hum a familiar tune as you made your way down to the creek, your blouse buttoned haphazardly and uneven. You started the small fire, setting the full pot of water on top, and waited for it to warm. There was a rustle in the bushes behind you, causing you to quickly turn your head and grab instinctively for your gun, which wasn't there. ‘Of course, I’ll die trying to take a damn bath.’ you thought to yourself. A man emerged from the bushes, carrying a towel and a bar of soap, it was just Arthur. “Damn it, Arthur, you scared the piss outta me!” He looked up, surprised to see you. “Oh!” He exclaimed. “Well, I am scarier than a bear, so maybe you should be scared.” He winked at you. You felt butterflies land on that swirling pool in your stomach.

 

“You taking a bath too?” Arthur inquired. “No.” You said, smiling. “I’m just warming the water for the hell of it. I figured I could go a couple more weeks without one.” He looked at you, a smile pulling at the corner of his mustache. “Sure you can.” he laughed. “I mean you don't smell like the back end of a donkey’s ass or anything.” you rolled your eyes at him. “Well, you sure as hell need a bath. I’ve noticed there’s been some flies following you around lately, are they your pets, or just confusing you with road apples?” This comment earned a hearty chuckle from Arthur. “I think Pearson was needing some bacon grease for breakfast, but that stuff in your hair will do.” That was the last straw for you. “You son of a bitch!” you yelled, smiling and giggling as you lunged at him. He laughed as he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder. “Looks like I’ll have to just dunk ya myself!” he started to walk towards the water, You began to playfully yell as you near the water. You knew he wasn't gonna hesitate to throw you in. “Wait, wait!!” He kept walking. “Let me take my boots off please!” he stopped, “Alright.” he agreed. Grabbing your boots one at a time he pulled them off and threw them back towards your pile of stuff. Though you hated being thrown into cold water, you couldn't help but love the way he carried you. You felt his arms start to move, pulling you off his shoulder, he launched you into the deeper end of the greek, the cold water rushing over you as rain runs over a rock. 

 

You stood up the moment you got your feet under you, taking a deep breath as you came up. You looked at Arthur who was howling, hunched over, in laughter. “I’m gonna kill you, Morgan!!” You ran as fast as you could through the water until you got to him, tacklin him into the ground. The two of you landed with an “oof”, cackling on the ground. “Oh man, Y/N.” He wiped at the tears that were forming at his eyes. “Dutch is right, you are funny!” You rolled your eyes as you laid next to him. “Come on darlin, your water is ready, let's get you cleaned up.” 

 

You began to get cold in your wet clothes, but you had to wash your body in the cool creek, the warm water was reserved for your hair. “Well. Arthur.” He looked at you, his shirt half undone as he was getting ready to hop into the creek. “Oh,” he said. “I won't look! Ill face upriver, you face down the river, that way nobody is seeing anything.” You smiled at him, he always was the gentleman about these things, only you really wouldn't mind if he snuck a peak. “Alright.” you agreed. The two of you faced way from one another, undressing. You could hear the metal of his belt buckle ring as it hit the rocks at his feet. You were stark naked, doing your best to cover yourself as the two of you side passed your way into the water. It felt so good to clean yourself after a long few days of hunting and working. The lather and bubbles of the soap relaxed your tired mind. 

 

You thought about the man behind you, wondering if you could sneak a peak. I mean, you were covered by the water, and what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. You slowly turned your head, trying not to make any noise. You saw him out of the corner of your eye and slowly he came into your direct line of vision. You gazed upon the strong muscles of his back, tracing your eyes across the scars that scattered his skin. A few of them were familiar, the one on his left shoulder where he got shot by the O’Driscolls, one near his lower back where a man had cut him after a bar fight. You let your eyes wander across his body, but then he began to move. 

 

He turned and faced you, his face full of surprise. “Agh!” you yelled, turning around quickly. You heard the water near him splash, indicating he'd done the same thing. You could hear his laughter behind you and you couldn’t help but smile too. “I’m getting out now, don't look.” You yelled, completely embarrassed. “Mmmhmm.” He said. You ran out of the creek and grabbed your towel, covering yourself. You turned and faced away from the creek. “Okay, you can come out now,” you told him. “I’m not looking.” You heard the water move as Arthur made his way to the shore. “Sure you won’t.” he quipped. “Okay, Y/N. I’m decent.” You turned back to face him, a towel wrapped around his waist, starting to re-dress himself. You turned to your clothes, realizing that all you had were your soaking wet duds from before your bath. “Hey, Arthur?” “Yea?” you looked at your feet. “My clothes are soaked.” He turned and looked the pitiful pile at your feet, laughing to himself. “Uh-huh,” he said. “What am I supposed to do about it huh?” You raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re the one who made them that way!” Arthur laughed in response. “Alright, here.” He handed you his clean shirt and pants. “I’ll wear the clothes I came down here in and you can wear the clean ones I was gonna change into. They won't fit but they'll get you back to camp without you having to streak.” 

 

You took the shirt and pants from him, grateful for the offer. The two of you dressed in silence, turning around once you were both clothed. “Hey!” Arthur exclaimed. “You make those clothes look pretty good!” You smiled, putting your hands on your hips and doing your best impersonation of a saloon girl. “Why thank you.” you replied, “They’re the latest fashion from Paris.” Arthur looked you up and down, a smile invading his face. ‘what is this game we are playing?” you asked yourself. You laughed and made your way to the pot of hot water, taking it from the flame and dipping the pitcher into it. “Y/N?” Arthur asked. “What?” “Can I borrow some of your hot water there to wash my hair?” You scowled at him. “After all you’ve done to me today?” He grunted at you. “I’m letting you wear my clothes aren't I?” He explained. “Because you soaked my other ones!” He laughed. “Come on, you're not gonna use all that water and we both know it.” 

 

He was right. “Fine,” you said. He came over close to you, grabbing the pitcher from your hand, “I can do it.” you said, pulling the pitcher back into your hands. “It’s easier with help.” He gave you a knowing look. You put his towel around his shoulders and had him lean back on a fallen log near the pot. You poured the warm water through his hair, scrubbing it with soap, finding it hard not to get distracted by his handsome face. He had closed his eyes, relaxing at your hands in his hair, you broke the silence. “I didn't see anything,” you said, embarrassed. “When I was turned around in the creek I mean.” He opened one eye and you rinsed his hair with the water in the pitcher, scrubbing out the soap. “Sure you didn't darlin.” He opened his other eye. “I’d say I didn't too, but the water was pretty clear where you were at.” You felt a wave of desire rush through you, unsure of how to reply. You set the pitcher down. 

 

“Looks like it's your turn.” Arthur dried his hair with the towel and headed to the pot to fill up the pitcher. You wrapped your towel around your shoulders and leaned back, closing your eyes. Arthur put his hand behind your neck and poured the warm water across your scalp, he worked the soap into a lather and you could feel his breath on your face. He massaged your head, scrubbing your hair, you kept your eyes clothes but could feel his breath getting closer to you. He rinsed your hair with the warm water once more, then he put his hands in your hair. You could feel his breath move along your neck, he placed his lips at your collarbone. You weren't sure what to think, but he began to trial his lips up your throat until he planted a firm, passionate, kiss on your lips. You fell into him, bringing your arms up to grasp onto him.   
He pulled away, his blue eyes never leaving you. “I have wanted to do that for years.” He said smiling at you. You felt a grin covering your face. “Well, what the hell took you so long Morgan?”


	6. The Ferry Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and most of the gang get sent on the Ferry job, you meet a sweet young girl, but things go terribly wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ps. I went back and edited this because I realized I didn't have it all right. So, some changes have been made for accuracy!

You had made it back to your tent, hair wet, cheeks burning, and lips stinging. ‘what just happened.’ you thought to yourself. You couldn’t believe that Arthur had just kissed you like that, without warning, without a word. You took his clothes off, desperately wishing you could keep them. He said he’d wanted to do that for ‘years’. You found your undergarments and began to dress yourself. How many years exactly? You put on a pair of dark green trousers, buttoning them before looping your belt onto them. Before or after Mary? You shrug a white blouse on, You had so many questions and so little in terms of answers. You finished buttoning your shirt and put on your boots and hat. 

 

You made your way to Pearson’s wagon, smelling the leftover stew from last night being re-heated for breakfast. Charles was helping Pearson pack some things up, you smiled at him and he gave a nod. You grabbed a bowl and sat yourself next to the fire, the camp was in a frenzy, people packing up their things, loading wagons, and taking short breaks to eat some breakfast. You sat there by yourself, digesting your food, as well as what happened with Arthur. You wondered what this meant? Are you going to be keeping it a secret? You had no clue. ‘speak of the devil’ you thought, watching Arthur grab a bowl of soup and sit down next to you. “Hey, darlin.” He said, leaving little room between the two of you on the log.”Hey, there.” He smiled at you, his light blue eyes sparkling. 

 

“You ready for tonight?” Arthur asked. You had almost forgotten about tonight and the job you all were running. The sick feeling you’d had last night returned full force. “I suppose.” you said, unconfidently. Arthur looked at you , sensing that something was wrong. “Whatcha mean you, suppose?” He asked, chewing a tough piece of venison from his stew. “Arthur, I just can’t shake that feeling I had earlier.” You put your spoon down and faced him. “Something is going to go wrong tonight, I just feel it.” Arthur put his bowl down, nodding. “I’d be lying if I said I didn't have a bad feeling too, but it'll be okay.” You nodded, lips forming a strait line. You weren't sure why Arthur wasn't more upset, he had told you about a lead he and Hosea had been working on and Dutch had shot it down in order to do the ferry job. It was some high stakes poker game that some oil barons and railroad owners were playing, Arthur had seemed pretty sure that it would work. “Look,” Arthur grabbed your hand. “We’ll be extra careful. And besides, I’ve got the best gun around watching my back.” You looked at him with a sly smile, “I am not the best gun around.” You assured him. “I know.” He said, looking confused. “I was talking about Dutch.” You playfully punched his arm, earning you a hearty laugh from under his mustache. “We’ll be together, so it’ll all be okay.” He assured you.

 

You and Dutch had grown close over the years. He always was there to pick you up and dust you off when you needed. You and him and spent many nights staying up, reading poetry pondering life’s questions, and laughing about silly things. He was a great mentor and a close confidant, never leading you astray or thinking your opinion invalid, you hated that you didn't completely trust his judgment on this job. 

 

You packed your things into your trunk, clothes, a couple of books, your bar of soap, a bottle of rum, and a dutch oven. It was times like this, looking at your meager possessions that you wondered what it would be like to own a house; having land, your own kitchen, a bed you shared with Arthur, a couple of kids running around….’Snap out of it!’ you told yourself. You never really were a daydreamer, but something about that kiss made your mind wander. You braided your hair and put on your hat, hoping to cover up the red of your face. 

 

You had torn down your tent, packed it and a trunk into your wagon and tied your bedroll to your saddle. “Gather around everybody!” You heard Dutch yell near the fire. You patted your horse on the hip and headed to the group. You stood between the Callander boys, Mac, and Davey. They both offered you a “Hey” as you stood next to them. The two boys sure could be rascals, but they were kind and sweet. Always entertaining and bringing a smile to your face. “Alright, Everybody.” Dutch began. “Today is the day we get the money we need, and we pave the way to our future. Micah here has found us a great lead on a Ferry in Blackwater.” Micah looked proud at the mention of his name, “They say there’s over $100,000 on that damn ferry.” Micah said, smiling at his own words. “Indeed,” Dutch replied, turning his attention back to the gang. “What's going to happen is that Grimshaw, the ladies, Reverand, Strauss, and Pearson will wait here until we all meet back here later tonight. Arthur and Hosea, I have changed my mind about you not following your lead, I want you two to head into town now and hustle that high roller poker game you had talked about.” You felt your heart sink at the thought of Arthur not being with you. He looked at you with a serious face and you swore you could see a hint of worry in his eyes. “Lenny, Charles, John, Bill, Mac, Davey, Sean, Javier, and Y/N, you're with Micah and me on the boat. We're going to board the boat like the paying customers we are!” Dutch held up a stack of tickets. 

 

You heard a few cheers from the gang, but the excitement quickly turned into quiet nerves. “Once we’re on the boat, I want you all to try and pick whatever you can off of the passengers, take their money, their jewelry, hell take their chewing tobacco! Micah and I will head up to the Helm and have a little chat with the captain and find that money they have. Once we blow the ships horn three times, everybody slips off into one of the lifeboats and we will row ourselves back to Blackwater and back to camp.” There were a few nods from the gang, “Why you think he always says Mac before he says, Davey?” Davey whispered to Mac. “Cause he likes me best,” Mac stated, not even looking at his brother. Pssh was all he replied, making you laugh a little at their sibling rivalry. “If anything is to go wrong.” Dutch began, “Not that I foresee that, but if something is to go wrong, we need to meet on the west side of Blackwater. If we don't all see each other here by 10 tonight, head to the west side of Blackwater, near the church. Does everyone understand?” Most of the crew nodded. “Get your gear, mount up,” Dutch ordered, his words scattering the gang. "Pearson!" Dutch yelled as if remembering something important. "After we all board the Ferry, you will take our horses and leave them near the bend in the river." Pearson nodded, "You got it, boss." You immediately turned to find Arthur. He grabbed you by your arm, “Y/N.” He said, looking stressed. “I don't like this.” He looked at you, his hand still wrapped around your arm. “I don't either, but let's just get it done.” You stated, grabbing for his hand. “If something goes wrong you get the hell out of there you hear me?” You'd never seen Arthur so forceful and assertive towards you before. “Yes.” You nodded. “Damnnit,” he said through gritted teeth, you hated seeing him like this, but you both knew you had to do the jobs. “If something goes wrong you come and you find me and Hosea okay.” he was looking you in the eyes, as serious as you’d ever seen him. “Yes, Arthur. I promise I will.” He nodded at you, his jaw tense. You pulled him into you, holding him in your arms for a moment. “I hate that we aren't together on this job.” He whispered to you. “You be damn careful, girl. Damn careful.” You pulled away and nodded, letting go as you headed for your horse. You threw a leg over your saddle and gathered your reigns. “Lets ride!” Dutch yelled, and you took off.

 

The ride to Blackwater was quiet, nobody really making a sound. You hitched your horses near the Ferry dock and made you're way to the boat. Boarding went seamlessly, though a few unwelcome stares made you suddenly aware that you were the only woman on board in trousers. “Alright.” Dutch gathered you all up once you had made your way inside. “You know what to do.” The gang split up, weapons concealed under vests or in boots, as to not arouse suspicion. You made your way to the upper deck, looking for a place to try and lie low while keeping an eye out on everyone. Dutch told you all to focus on pickpocketing and stealing, but you couldn't let anything distract you, you had to try to be ready for when shit went wrong. 

 

You grabbed a drink so you could blend in and found a table in the corner of the dining area of the room, away from the crowds. It sat by the edge, two chairs on each side. Sitting in the chair facing the main entrance to the deck, you looked over the dining area and were able to see the river. The Ferry was open, no windows or walls, just a roof, and some railing to keep people from falling off. You looked out over the water, the stars reflecting their twinkle across the ripples, wind hitting your face as the boat trudged on. You wondered how Arthur was.

 

You kept your eyes peeled, watching Lenny and Javier sneak billfolds out of unsuspecting diners jackets. You saw Sean in the corner, leaned up against older women, using his Irish charm to distract her as he snuck off her pearl bracelet. You could help but smile at the pure talent of your friends, sure it may not have been a moral talent, but it was pretty impressive. You spotted a young woman, sipping on a wine glass all alone. She was a full, red-headed, woman in a fancy emerald dress, her lonely eyes scanning the room. She seemed to be looking for a place to sit, or somebody to talk to, you couldn't help but feel sympathy for her. She looked your way and you did your best to offer her a warm smile, after all, everyone she was looking at seemed to be averting their eyed. 

 

She met your gaze and smiled brightly at the sight of your warmth. She immediately began to walk over to where you were sitting. ‘Maybe this will be an easy score’ you thought to yourself. ‘I’ll see if I cant charm or guilt her into giving me all she’s got.’ The woman was at the chair across from you, the same smile still on her face. “Hello.” You greeted. “May I come sit with you?” Her voice was sweet with a thick southern drawl sounding like molasses. “Sure, I’d love the company.” you motioned for her to sit. She set her glass down and smoothed out her dress before having a seat. ‘Alright, I’ll play the lonely widow and earn some cash through charity.’ You told yourself, you always had a knack for manipulation and scamming people. 

 

“My name is Heidi.” She introduced herself, offering you her hand. “Heidi McCourt.” You took her hand and shook it. “I’m Annie Morgan.” You introduced yourself, unsure of why you chose to have your last name be Arthurs. She couldn't have been more than 17, but she was mature for her age. “Where are you from Mrs.McCourt?” You asked, taking a sip of your drink. “Call me Heidi please.” You nodded in understanding. “I’m from New Orleans. I grew up down there on a cotton Plantation. My daddy sent me out west to live with my Uncle because he said my lungs weren't any good and that it wasn't no place for a lady no more. My uncle is actually the Ferry captain and owner, so I spend most nights here, meeting folk and enjoying the nice evening air.” You nodded your head, offering her a reassuring smile, listening to her talk. “My Momma was a real high society lady, that was until she got Tuberculosis and died shortly before I was sent here. My daddy says that he’s gonna come out here and we're gonna build us a cattle ranch, but he hasn't come this way yet.” 

 

You continued to drink and listen to her stories, you wondered if anybody had ever listened to her in her life. Here you were thinking you were gonna trick her into giving you the money, and you've become the one who pitted her. You could tell she was incredibly sweet, but that nobody seemed to give her the time of day. She told you of her dreams of becoming a famous actress, traveling around performing Shakespeare and living on room service. She also told you of her mother and how much she missed her. She was smart and actually very easy to listen to. You just listened and nodded, knowing that she just needed somebody to sit and let her talk. Over her shoulder, you noticed a man who was looking suspiciously at you, his bourbon eyes gazing at you over his drink. He stood alone, leaning up against a wall, dressed in a black suit and a bowler hat. You decided to keep your eye on him.

 

It was getting later and you still hadn't heard the signal to leave. You saw Mac and Davey getting a drink at the bar, Davey giving you a wink when you looked his way. Heidi kept talking and you did your best to observe the room while still focusing on her. You saw the man move from his place against the wall and to the bar next to Davey and Mac. 'He's a lawman.' you thought to yourself, knowing you couldn't do anything. She was explaining how she powdered her face to give her a rosy completion when you felt the Ferry lurch forward. Heads glass of red wine toppled across the table and into your lap. “I am so sorry!” She exclaimed, handing you her napkin and pressing her fingers to her face. “My word, I will pay you for the trouble, that's going to stain. I’m real sorry Annie.” You gave her a reassuring look, “No, No. Heidi, it's not your fault, besides this is an old shirt so don't worry about it.” 

 

Heidi looked out over the deck, a worry washing across her face. “We shouldn't be going this fast.” You looked at her, confused. “There’s a bend in the river ahead, we’ll crash right into some huge boulders if we keep going this fast.” She looked at you, her face strained. “Heidi?” You asked. “I’d better go see what's happening.” She stood up and began to walk away from the table. You knew where she was headed and you knew what she would find. “Heidi wait!” You called, the worry in your voice clear. Everyone turned their heads towards you, the man at the bar shot a look at you, setting his drink down. Following Heidi, you made your way to the uppermost deck, trying to convince her that everything was fine. “Heidi, I’m sure it's all fine.” You told her. You looked behind you, seeing the brown-eyed man following you. 'This is not going to end well' you thought to yourself. “I just want to make sure.” She assured you. She sure was a persistent woman. You followed her, hoping that Dutch and Micah were done in the helm. “Heidi lets just tell a guard,” you pleaded. “We don't really have any business coming up here.” She looked at you, eyebrows raised and a smile in the corner of her mouth. “Annie, It's okay. We’re not gonna get thrown off or anything. I’m just taking a look.” You knew you weren't gonna win this battle, but you desperately didn't want to hurt her. The man behind you was gaining on you, you felt a sick nervousness take over your stomach.

 

The two of you rounded a corner and there was the door. “Heidi.” You tried one more time. “I’m gonna have to insist you don't go in there.” You put your hand into your jacket, the tips of your fingers caressing the pearl handle of your revolver. She didn't think twice, looking at you with disgust and began to turn the knob. "Hey! Stop right there!" You heard the man behind you yell. You turned to face him, Heidi stopped opening the door. "Y/N. I know you're here with the Van Der Linde Gang. I''m here to take you in." You had to think fast, you knew there was no way he was alone. "I have no idea what you're talking about." You played coy. Heidi spoke up behind you, "Sir this is Annie Morgan, no some outlaw." 'Bless her heart' you thought, feeling terrible she was mixed up in all this. "Ma'am, This is an outlaw." He assured Heidi, then turned to you. "I'm not afraid to use this." He motioned to the pistol on his hip, thinking it might intimidate you. "I will use this on a woman if necessary." He said, looking down at his holster. You knew this was your chance. With his head down and mouth moving, you unholstered your pistol and hit him as hard as you could over the head with the handle. He slumped to the ground without a sound. You turned and saw Heidi open the door. 'holy shit' you thought. 

 

The way her breath seemed to disappear, and the audible “Oh God” from her mouth indicated that it was bad. You pushed through the door, grabbing for her arm to pull her back out. When you made it into the small wheel room, you saw blood everywhere. A body was slumped over the accelerator, pushed all the way forward. Another body was in a puddle on the floor with Micah’s knife in its chest. By this point, both Dutch and Micah had turned around and we're looking at you and Heidi. “What the hell is going on Y/N?” Dutch exclaimed, looking at Heidi. “I’m sorry, she forced her way up here.” Dutch looked at you, furious. "We've got a bigger problem though Dutch. Lawmen are here." You saw the flash of panic fill his eyes, "How did they know?" he asked, not expecting an answer. 

 

Heidi was in shock, the color drained from her face and she started to scream. “Uncle Raymond!!” You could hear the pain and the fear in her voice. “Shut your Damn mouth!” Micah yelled at her. She silenced herself, but you could see the rage in her eyes. She lunged forward, throwing her body at Dutch, landing a fist on his right cheek. “Damn you!” She yelled. You grabbed her and pulled her off of him, “Heidi, get out of here now.” You urged her. She looked at you with hatred, you felt guilt rise up in your stomach. Click. You heard the cock of a pistol and looked up, Dutch was aiming his revolver at Heidi’s head. “Dutch.” You pleaded. “let her go, she’s got nothing to do with this.” As soon as the words left your mouth you heard the familiar whistle of an organized group of policemen. Gunfire resounded on the decks below, echoed by the screams of passengers. "Shit!" Micah yelled. 

 

Dutch looked at you, his blood boiling. Just then an awful sound of metal on rock filled the air. The boat shaking violently, pushing everyone to the floor. You heard a loud explosion and the screams of passengers and saw smoke coming from the other side of the ferry. “We gotta go now!” Dutch yelled, slinging saddlebags full of money over his shoulder, motioning for the three of you to move. You headed out the door and made your way to the edge, many of the lifeboats were already deployed, you saw people jumping from the boat, and saw a growing wall of flames near the smokestacks. Smoke, men yelling, and gunfire filled the air. You didn't see how you could make it to a boat and you looked at the dark water below you. 

 

“Out of my way sweetheart!” You heard Micah yell as he shoved you out of the way. He climbed over the railing and jumped into the water. You looked behind you, seeing Heidi, her desperate eyes looking at you, Dutch behind her. You knew you had to get off the ferry now, it was sinking and burning fast and the law would be on you in any second. Just then, two groups of armed men blocked the only exits you had to the lower decks, you were trapped. "Dutch Van Der Linde!" One of the men roared. "We are agents of the Pinkerton Detective agency and we are here to take you in. We suggest you come quietly. The smoke began to fill your eyes and your lungs, forcing you to cough, Heidi seemed to be struggling in the thin air. "Well, boy's ain't this a party!" You heard Dutch say besides you. You drew your revolver, sure these were the last shallow breaths you were gonna take. You suddenly felt Dutch's hands on your shoulders, he pushed you towards the edge, then over the railing. You hit the water, the hard impact stinging your skin and the water filling your lungs. You swam as quickly as you could towards the surface, taking a deep breath of water as you broke through the water. You saw passengers jumping from all levels of the ferry. “Y/N!” you heard Lenny call from behind you. You turned around and saw him, Charles, Mac, and Javier in a lifeboat. You swam to them and they pulled you in. "You okay Mi hija?" Javier asked, giving you a once over. You nodded. “Where’s Dutch?” Charles asked. You looked back at the sinking ferry and saw him on the deck you had jumped from. “There.” you pointed. 

 

Dutch was near the edge, the smoke slightly obscuring him. He had his arms around a Heidi, he was yelling but you couldn't make out what he was saying. He put his revolver up against her temple. "No!" You yelled, hoping it was all just a rouse. Smoke blew into your line of vision and you heard a shot. The smoke passed and you watched Dutch jump into the water, bullets following after him. You looked to where he was, seeing Heidi lying on the deck, Pinkertons surrounding her lifeless body. 


	7. The Trek North

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang has to find one another after the massacre aboard the ferry.

You watched the flames take over the left side of the ferry, people jumping from every deck, scrambling to get to a lifeboat or the shore. You saw Dutch swimming in the dark water, some of the Pinkerton’s on the edge looking down and aiming at him. Their bullets missed their targets, hitting the water behind and on either side of him. Part of you wanted to leave him there to drown, but the other part of you knew that he had saved your life by pushing you off that boat. “Dutch!” Lenny called, rowing over to him. You all helped him into the tiny boat. “Get us the hell out of here quick Lenny!” 

 

Lenny rowed as fast as he could towards shore. “Where’s everybody else?” Dutch asked, looking at the men in the boat. “We all got split up.” Charles said. “It was a madhouse on there, its like they knew we were going to be there.” Dutch shook his head and turned to you. “Are you okay?” He looked genuinely worried, grabbing your shoulders and giving you a sort of pat down. “I was worried when I pushed you over the edge that I was going to hurt you.” You could tell he was being serious. “I’m fine.” You told him, no emotion in your voice. He looked almost in pain at your words, “Look, Y/N.” He tried to grab your hand and you pulled it away, shooting him a look of disappointment and anger. “I’m really sorry, it all just happened so fast and-“ He stopped talking abruptly, Lenny had stopped rowing and Javier and Charles got out to pull the boat ashore. “We’ll talk about this when we get a better chance.” He said, helping you out of the boat and grabbing the saddlebags he had taken off the Ferry.

 

The group of you made your way to where Pearson had stashed the horses, You noticed that the horses of all those who weren't with you were gone, except Sean’s. “Sean’s horse is still here,” You stated. “That's not a good sign.” Charles mounted his horse, “Damn.” He said. “We’d better get moving though, Pinkerton's will be on out tail any minute.” You got on your horse and the six of you rode as quickly as you could into town. As you neared the outskirts of Blackwater, Dutch spoke. “Be prepared for a firefight. These Pinkerton's know we’re coming.” Everybody prepared for the worst as you all traveled the long way around town to the church. You rounded the corner and saw a few men on horseback waiting there, you hoped it wasn't Pinkerton’s.

 

“Dutch.” A voice from the darkness said it was Micah. 'Glad to see the coward made it.' you thought to yourself. “Who’s all here?” Dutch asked. Voices spoke out into the darkness, “John.” “Bill.” “Micah.” You couldn't make out any faces, but their familiar voices were comfortable enough. There was a man slumped over sitting behind Bill’s saddle. “Davey’s hurt pretty bad Dutch.” Bill spoke up, “Mac, I’m real sorry.” You could hear Davey wheezing and a strange gurgle in his throat. “Davey?” You heard Mac frantically get off his horse, the sound of his boots running through the dirt. “Davey?” There was desperation in his voice, it killed you. “Damnit, we will tend to him as soon as we can, Y/N, Why don't you see what you can do? You all will wait here for the rest of the gang, then we head north.” Dutch pulled out his pocket watch, “They should all be arriving here soon.” You heard people shift in their saddles in the dark and you climbed off your horse, reaching for the medicine you had in your saddle bag. "I've got to drop this money," Dutch announced. "I have a safe place to put it, I will be back shortly." Nobody really said anything or moved as dutch rode off. "Be careful." Were the only words said.

 

You always carried some extra cloth for bandages and a few odds and ends just in case. After falling on your head all those years ago, you figured it would be smart to at least have something to stop some bleeding. You made your way in the near pitch black to Davey, Mac, and John gently pulling him off the horse. You could see that he’d been shot in the neck, the wound was bleeding a lot, bit you thought you might be able to save him if you got somewhere he didn't have to move. All of this movement could cause hemorrhage of the artery and would kill him. “Hey, Davey.” You said as softly as you could. “I’m going to do my best to patch you up okay? I’m going to wrap this bandage around your neck and your head, it might be a little tight but that how it's going to have to be.” He didn't say much, just a gargle from the blood that was seeping into his throat. You put some alcohol on the bandage and wrapped it as tightly as you could without hindering his breathing, you wished you had a wagon you could load him on. You pet his hair for a moment, the sick feeling in your stomach telling you what you were afraid to share with the others; he wasn't going to make it. Dutch was back in a few short minutes, not saying anything as he rode back into the group. You pushed yourself onto your feet, grabbing Mac’s hand and giving it a light squeeze. He gave you a weak smile, “Thank you.” His misty eyes and fake strength ate at your fading sanity.

 

 You heard Mac, whispering to Davey, it seemed to bring everyone a little comfort, even if it made your heart cry. There was a silence over everyone when it was broken by the sound of hooves. “Dutch!” you heard a frantic voice to your left. It was Hosea. “Dutch, the Pinkerton's found camp while you were out, most everybody was able to get out and they’ve gathered up north with all we could grab. We have to leave now!” You noticed Hosea had said, “most” not all, your mind wanted to cloud with worry, but there was no time. Everyone sprang into action, John and Mac reloaded Davey on Johns horse and the gang followed Hosea out of the darkness.

 

 You rounded the corner of the church just as the familiar and bone-chilling sound of whistles broke through the thick night. “Damnit!” John yelled, the familiar rasp in his voice clear to your left. “Everybody keep riding!” Dutch yelled just as the bullets began to fill the air. You heard the quick sound of hooves rapidly approaching from behind you and you knew this wasn't going to end well. You pulled your revolver from your belt, ready to take out as many Pinkerton's as needed. Bullets whistled by your head, the eerie whirr, passing too close for comfort. Bill was yelling profanities at the men, aiming sloppily at them. Javier was turned around, shoot at the Pinkerton's, you saw a few fly from their horses as the gang shot back. “Fucks sake!” Mac rid out, you looked to see his horse bleeding from its hind leg, limping, then watched as the animal collapsed. Mac tumbled out of his saddle, rolling to a harsh stop, putting his hands over his head as horses passed over him. Some lawmen were on Mac in what seemed like barely a second, stopping their horses to arrest him. “Mac!” You yelled half out of shock, and half out of wanting to tell the others. “Keep riding!” Dutch yelled you hated having to watch him get arrested, but you knew there was nothing you could do, it saddened you to think Davey was going to die without his brother to be there. You aimed at a man in a group of three men behind you, pulling the trigger, watching as one of them fell to the ground.

 

 The group of men following you was beginning to thin and you knew you had to be getting closer to the rest of the gang. “Agh!” You looked to see John grasping his arm, Davey was barely conscious behind him, his body flopping with each step of the horse. The group behind had dwindled now to just two, you aimed again, firing at the man on the left. He toppled from his horse and the man next to him soon followed thanks to someone else.

 

 The gang wasn't out of the woods yet, it would only take them a short while to re-group and come after you. You all kept riding, winding through the forest on obscure trails until you got to the rest of the gang. “We’ve gotta get moving now!” You heard Arthurs familiar voice, just the sound of it soothing the terror that coursed through your veins. He was riding one of Charles horses, leaving you wondering what happened to Boadicea. “Wait!” You yelled before everyone took off. “We’ve got to get Davey into a wagon, he can’t hardly sit up.” You dismounted and grabbed onto Davey’s arm, Arthur was next to you in an instant, helping you take him off of John’s horse. “You okay?” he asked you quietly, worry plagued his face, his eyes seeming bluer and completely exhausted. “Yea,” you told him, nodding and trying to give him your most convincing look of assurance. The two of you carried Davey as gently as you could to a wagon were Abigail, Jack, Reverend, and Strauss sat. “I’ll look after him,” Abigail said, covering him with blankets, the cold of the night beginning to creep up on all of you. You nodded and looked into the wagon, a body lay there, unmoving.

 

 You felt a lump in your throat as you saw her familiar blonde hair peeking out from beneath the blanket covering her; it was Jenny. Reverend Swanson saw you looking at her, he grabbed your hand. “Its a tragedy. The Pinkerton's that were terrorizing us shot her without a thought.” You held in your emotions and nodded, making your way back to your horse. “Alright, we’d better go.” Dutch had climbed into the driver's seat of one of the wagons next to Hosea, you heard the creak of the wooden wheels and the angel of the harnesses as the wagons began to move. You climbed on your horse, still wet and cold from your swim. You told John to wait and threw him a bandage to wrap around his would, he thanked you. The rest of the gang began to move, those on horseback filling gaps between and behind the three wagons.

 

 You gathered your reins and were about to ride into line when Arthur approached. “Hey, wait just a minute.” Arthur stepped off his horse and untied something from his saddle, he pulled out a large, blue, wool lined jacket and handed it to you. “You’re wet and shivering. You’d better put this on before we climb in altitude, it's only gonna get colder.” You took the jacket from him and slipped it over your clothes, it almost immediately shielded you from the slight wind and dropping temperatures. He put a hand on your shaking leg. The gang rode out of sight ahead of you, leaving the two of you in the silent clearing. “I was so worried about you,” Arthur looked up at you, his warm hand still on your leg. “I don't know that I coulda handled it if you were one of the ones taken or killed, as bad as that sounds, I’m so damn glad you're okay.” You gave him the best smile you could muster, placing your frozen hand to his stubbled face. “I’m damn glad you're okay too.” He half smiled and pulled his hand off your leg. You watched as he pulled off his gloves, handing them to you. You started to shake your head, “Don’t you shake your head at me girl.” He raised an eyebrow. “You’re cold as ice, you let me know if you can't get warm, I don't need you freezing on me.” He gave you a wink, the only good thing that you've seen in the last few hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading, I can't tell you all how much I appreciate you! Thank you for all the love and kind words, stay tuned! There is more to come!


	8. Colter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang runs into weather and the O'Driscolls and nobody knows what the hell is going on.

The ride from Blackwater was quiet, nobody daring to make a sound, as if any little noise would send Pinkerton's running out at you all from the woods. Even little jack who always seemed to have something to say sat in solemn silence. The gang was headed north, you could tell as the temperature began to drop rapidly and dark, heavy, snow clouds began to gather in the direction you were headed. It had been nearly 12 hours since you left and nothing much had happened, Davey was swiftly declining and the cold and exhaustion was beginning to set in. The road you traveled seemed familiar, you’d ridden this area with your father as a young girl, bringing supplies to high mountain mining camps and homesteaders who lived in the mountains. The familiarity brought you comfort as you all continued north. 

 

You and Arthur were bringing up the rear, sharing a few words between one another, but not more than just occasionally making sure the other was okay. The wind had started to pick up and the horses were getting tired. “We might need to stop soon,” Arthur said, looking ahead at the small wagon train in front of you. “Yea, the horses are getting pretty tired.”You looked at him, seeing the exhaustion in his eyes. “I’ll ride up and tell Dutch that we ‘d better rest for a bit, let the horses get their strength back up.” He gave his horse a nudge and disappeared into the road ahead. 

 

Soon, the group came to a halt, a collective groan seemed to come from everyone as they dismounted and landed their stiff legs on the solid ground. You took the bride off your horse and gave him a pat. You haltered him and led him to the edge of the last wagon where Arthur, Charles, and John were gathered. The four of you unsaddled your horses, gave them each a bucket of water, and hobbled them nearby, letting them graze as you all rested. 

 

“Sure is getting colder in a hurry,” John said, biting into an apple. Charles nodded, cutting his fruit into small pieces. You saw a bandage around Charles' hand, blood soaking through the cloth. “Charles, what happened to your hand?” You set your apple down and gently grabbed it. “Oh, it's alright.” He assured you. “I burnt it on the damn boat, a burning beam fell and blocked a woman and her son from getting out so I moved it, but it was a little hotter than expected” Charles’s kindness and sacrifice never ceased to amaze you. You unwrapped the bandage, Charles winced at the pain. The burn was bad and deep. “Charles.” You looked at the wound, worried about the pain he must be feeling, “You should keep this covered and rested for a few days at least, you don’t want to risk infection.” He nodded, “I will, Y/N.” The four of you sat, silently munching on apples and taking swigs of water from a canteen. You still hadn't gotten completely warm from the Ferry Job, but you knew this was Arthur's only thick jacket, so you set off to find yours. 

 

You found Mrs. Grimshaw huddled near Davey, the sight of the poor man made you feel selfish for being cold. “What do you need honey?” Mrs. Grimshaw asked, she was always a hard woman, but she tended to be soft when it counted. “Arthur’s let me borrow his jacket, but I know it’s only going to get colder and I don't want him to be left to the elements. I was just curious if you knew where my things had been put?” Susan looked at you with a disappointed look. “I’m sorry, Miss Y/N. We got ambushed so quickly we didn't have a chance to grab all of your things.” You nodded, understanding. “Don't be sorry Mrs. Grimshaw.” You assured her. “I’d rather have the lot of you then a trunk full of silly little things.” She gave you a soft, slight, smile. “Let me ask around though, I’m sure somebody has an extra coat you can use.” 

 

You returned to the wagon where John, Charles, and Arthur were sitting. You sat on the edge of the wagon next to Arthur. He cut a piece from the apple in his hand and gave it to you, you smiled at him. “Y/N.” you heard Mrs.Grimshaw’s voice from around the corner, she came into view, holding a thick fur-lined jacket. “Dutch had this in his things, he said you could use it.” You took the coat, “Thank you very much, Mrs. Grimshaw.” You told her, beginning to unbutton Arthurs jacket. “Tell Dutch thank’s for me would you?” She nodded and went back to tend to Davey. 

 

The men sitting around you looked at you. “What happened to your stuff?” Charles asked, flicking his apple core into the dark woods. “They didn't have time to grab it.” You explained, “ I just didn't want Arthur to have to freeze.” You handed Arthur his jacket and slipped Dutch’s on. “That’s mighty kind of you.” Arthur gave you a smile and slightly shook his head. “Well, it wasn't so much that I didn't want you to freeze,” you explained. “As much as it was me not wanting to hear you whine.” The men laughed, a welcome sound in such a sad place. “I’m sorry about your things,” Charles said sincerely. You smiled at his sentiment. “Well, it's a good thing you're a simple woman then huh?” John teased you, the wound on his arm seemed to have stopped bleeding. 

 

Arthur reached into his vest a pulled out a small, but full flask, after taking a pull, he handed it to you. “Arthur, you’d better be sharing.” John laughed, reaching his hands out for it. You put the cool metal of the top to your lips and let the fiery liquid warm you from the inside, just what you needed. You passed it to Charles, emitting a whiny, “Come on” from John and a laugh from Arthur. Charles and John both took a swig and sat with a smile. Arthur always knew how to use the little things to keep people from losing their minds. 

 

The gang rested for a couple of hours, and as the sun began to rise, you all hit the road again. The road was rough, it was an old mining road used nearly 50 years earlier in the gold rush, meaning it was hardly used throughout the year and about as bumpy as could be. You continued to increase in altitude, the aspens began to turn to pines and the air became thin and cold. The gang traveled several more hours, rested for a couple and headed on, some people slept during the time you all stopped, but it seemed for the most part that you all 

 

On what you had guessed to be day three of travel, the weather turned sour. Snow seemed to be blowing in from every direction and the temperature was well below zero. You could hardly see ten feet in front of you and the cold seeped into your boots and gloves, numbing your feet and hands. Regardless of the weather, you had to press on. 

 

After a couple of hours in the blistering cold snowstorm, the wagon train came to a sudden halt. Lenny came riding to the rear where you and Arthur were riding, “Hey!” Lenny greeted the two of you. “Dutch wants the two of you to ride on up and try to find a place for us to stop.” He had to yell for you to hear him over the wind. Arthur nodded, patting his horse’s neck. “We can do that.” He said, motioning for you to follow him. “Dutch sent Micah and John out looking too, so try to find your way back to us when you find something.” “Will do.” You half yelled back at Lenny.

 

You and Arthur rode through the dark, whirling, mess that surrounded you. You held a lantern in your hand, but it really was pointless at the moment as it didn't seem to help in any way. “I think there might be an abandoned mining camp somewhere up here!” You yelled toward Arthur. “How do you know that?” He yelled back, his face tipped down to keep the snow off his face. “My father and I use to pack supplies up here for the miners and homesteaders way back when.” Arthur looked at you squinting. “Well, good thing that's all coming in handy now.” 

 

You kept riding, holding your lantern out, knowing that abandoned camp was bound to be there somewhere. “We should run into it soon I think.” you told Arthur who was keeping pace with you. At this point, you couldn't stop shivering, the hand holding the lantern shook, the flame dancing about with each jolt. Arthur looked at you with a pang of worry on his face. “Hey, Y/N.” You turned to look at Arthur, his eyes watery from the wind and cold, ice was forming in his mustache. “Are you alright? I don't think you’ve stopped shaking since we left Blackwater.” You hadn't, the cold seemed to have seeped into your bones, causing you to ache with each shake. “I’m fine, Arthur.” He looked at you, unconvinced, the lantern light playing across your frozen, reddened face. “I’m a little cold, I’ll admit.” You continued, “But, I’m fine, honestly. You don't need to worry after me.” He shook his head. “Maybe I don't need to, but I’ll always worry about you, at least a little.” 

 

You rode on until you could see the dark outlines of wooden, snow-covered, buildings. “Here we are!” you couldn't contain the excitement in your voice. “Thank God,” Arthur said. The two of you trotted closer to the buildings, they were empty and slightly falling apart, but they would keep you all from the elements. You and Arthur hitched your horses and made your way inside the biggest building. The snow was nearly knee deep, combined with the thin frozen air, and Dutch’s massive jacket, it made for quite the physical challenge to get to the building. 

 

The door creaked, letting out a loud moan from its hinges. You could smell the dust and years of neglect, but it would do, nobody was above a bit of dirt if it meant warmth. There was a fireplace against one wall, you noticed that there was plenty of broken furniture and pieces of wood to get a fire going. “How bout I ride back and tell the others and you get a fire started and warm yourself up.” Arthur proposed. You nodded, the thought of a fire made your numb digits almost re-gain their feeling. ‘Fuck it's been a long trip’ you thought to yourself.

 

You looked at Arthur, he was staring at you standing there shivering. “Even after days of no sleep, no bath, and the worst damn luck we’ve ever had, you still manage to look so beautiful, Darlin.” You couldn't help but let out a laugh as your cheeks began to warm. “Arthur, I guarantee I look like the back end of a donkey right now.” He took a step towards you. “The back end is the best part of a donkey, everybody knows that.” You laughed even louder, throwing your head back at his stupid comment. “Arthur, that wasn't your most charming statement.” He wrapped his arms around you, his warmth making you want to fall asleep right there, safe in his arms. “Well, I suppose I just don't think I’ll ever be able to see you as anything but breathtaking.” This man was irresistible. “Arthur,” you couldn't finish your sentence as his icy lips crashed against yours. You’d been starved of him for days, all the stress, all the worry, seemed to bubble to the surface, forcing you closer to him. You let yourself get lost in the kiss, his cool skin seemed to warm at your touch and his hands left trails of heat wherever they went. 

 

Hot breath filled the air between you, making you crave his lips even more until he pulled away. “As much as I want to stay here alone with you, I’d better tell the others we found a place.” You nodded. “I’ll try to get a fire started and a place for Davey to…well, you know.” He nodded, “Yea, It's too damn bad.” You could hear the pain in Arthurs' voice as he turned to go, but there wasn't any time for emotion. “I’ll be back soon.” He told you. You grabbed his hand and gave it a light squeeze, “Be safe out there.” He nodded, turning to head out the door. He turned back towards you before closing the door behind him, “You’d best warm yourself up, cause I ain’t done with you yet.” His words alone sent warmth through your veins. 

 

You grabbed as much of the dry wood that you could find in the room, chair legs, pieces of trim, and wall panels seemed like they would light just fine. You started a fire, fanning the flames and watching your breath as it turned to vapor in front of you. Your mind wanted to wander to thoughts of Mac, Sean, and poor Jenny. It killed you that you wouldn't know what happened to the boys, but it hurt, even more, knowing that Jenny paid a price that she shouldn't have. She was just a young girl, so full of light and joy for everyone and everything. You thought of Lenny too, it saddened you because you knew he was sweet on her. ‘Now isn't the time.’ you told yourself. ‘There is still much to do.’

 

You stood up and tried to find some sort of cloth or anything that you could arrange into a semi-soft place for Davey to lay. There were a few old burlap sacks in the corner of the room, you grabbed them and placed them on a wooden table near the fire. You could hear the horses jingling harnesses and Dutch’s voice outside, standing up you headed out to brave the cold once more.

 

The snow was still whirling and blowing sideways, it burned your face as you walked towards the wagons. Bill, Javier, Lenny, and Strauss carried Davey towards the building. “There’s a fire inside.” You yelled above the wind. “I made a place for Davey near it.” Bill nodded and Abigail followed them inside, carrying medical supplies and all the blankets she could carry. “Grab Jack!” she told you, motioning to the wagon. You looked inside and Jack was sitting there, wrapped in an old wool blanket, shivering but asleep. “Hey Jackie,” You whispered to him, picking him up and wrapping your arms tightly around him and resting his head on your shoulder. He was still shaking as you carried him inside, his little breaths even seemed to be cold. 

 

Most of the gang had made their way inside and to the fire. You set jack down on the wooden floor next to the fire, finding another blanket Tilly had brought in, you covered Jack with it. There was a moment of silence, it seemed as though a collective ‘We made it.’ was coming from everyone’s minds. Dutch and Arthur both walked in, their tired faces scanning the room as if taking a mental roll call. “Davey is Dead,” Abigail spoke up, she was standing by where Davey lay. There was a long moment of solemn silence, everybody knew it was coming but that didn't mean it hurt any less. The Reverend placed pennies on his eyes and began to say a quiet prayer over his body. The rest of you stood, looking towards the ground, silently grieving.

 

“I loved Davey.” Dutch broke the quiet mourning. “Jenny. Sean, Mac, they may be okay, we don't know.” Everyone looked at Dutch, listening. “We lost some Folk. Now, if I could throw myself in the ground in their stead, I’d do it, Gladly.” These words struck you as a lie. ‘No you wouldn’t.’ you thought to yourself, hating that you had a bitter taste in your mouth towards Dutch. You looked to Arthur whose faces seemed unconvinced at Dutch’s statement, you wanted so badly to pull him away and tell him all your thoughts and anger about the past few days. Dutch continued on, saying something about going out and finding food, and how nobody would’ve followed anybody through a storm like that. He finished his speech telling everybody to get themselves warm, to “Stay strong, Stay with me! We ain’t done yet!” his words echoed through the empty timbers of the house, everyone relieved and comforted by his words, except you.

 

Dutch asked Arthur to come with him, that they were going to try and find Micah and John and some food. “Out in this?” Arthur seemed shocked. “Only for a little bit,” Dutch told Arthur, the two of them walking out of the building as the chatter of the gang began to start. You took off after them, not wanting to let Arthur out of your sight. “Hey!” You called after them, the two of them were grabbing their horses from Charles and looked at you.”I’m coming too.” You waded through the deep snow and untied your horse from the hitching post. “Y/N, Why don't you stay and get rested and warmed up,” Dutch said, throwing a leg over his horse. He seemed to be genuine in wanting you to have some rest, but you felt like you couldn't trust his words anymore. “No.” You looked at him, your eyes showing him you weren't backing down. “I know this country, I can keep you from getting lost.” You turned to Arthur as if asking for some support.

 

“She’s right Dutch.” Arthur shifted in his saddle. “Besides, she’s a hell of a lot better company than Micah.” The four of you laughed, “That is true, son,” Dutch smiled of the first time in days. “Get on, let's go,” he said. You mounted your horse and followed Dutch and Arthur, “You rest that hand!” Dutch yelled back to Charles as you rode back into the unforgiving storm. 

 

The three of you rode, Arthur asking Dutch questions about what happened on the ferry. Dutch gave him only vague answers, beating around the bush and avoiding the confrontation. Arthur must’ve picked up on Dutch’s evasions, he stopped asking questions and began to look back at you periodically, as if making sure you hadn’t blown away.

 

“There’s somebody out there.” Dutch sounded nervous as he held out his lantern and called out to the shadowy figure ahead of you. Your hand instinctively went to your gun, waiting for a reason to draw. “It’s me Micah!” He rode into view, the hairy, rat looking man looked even worse than he normally did, but regardless you were glad to see he was okay. “There’s a homestead up ahead we can get some supplies at.” Micah motioned up the hill in front of you. “Anybody home?” Dutch asked, pushing his hat back down onto his head. “Yea, looks like they're having a party.” Micah let out a slight laugh as he turned to lead the way. 

 

The four of you rode your horses up the hill, Dutch talking to Micah, but you couldn't hear what they were saying. “Ask him if he’s seen John!” you heard Arthur yell, but you couldn't decipher Dutch’s mumbled reply. You made it to the top of the hill and looked down upon the homestead, light pouring from each window, and the sound of a fiddle filled the air around the cabin. “Let's leave the horses down there and go on foot.” Dutch whispered.

 

You rode down and hitched your horses on the trees. “Micah, you take cover behind that wagon. Arthur, you go behind that shed.” he pointed them in the direction they were to go. “Y/N, I need you to play the cold, worried wife. A couple out here alone is much less intimidating than a group of people knocking at the door.” You nodded. You ran some lines through your mind ‘please help us’ and ‘were so far from home’. You always were good at playing a part to gain sympathy and supplies. 

 

You and Dutch walked into the line with the door, you put your hands around his arm, “Gentleman.” Dutch called out, the music stopped and men were hushing each other from inside. The door swung open, “What do you want there partner?” A man emerged from within, a menacing look on his face.”My wife and I are extremely lost and hungry.” He patted your hands, “We would be much obliged if you could spare some food or water for us.” The man laughed, never a good sign. “You want food and water huh?” He walked to the edge of the porch.”Yes!” You spoke up, trying to play up the desperation in your voice. “Kind sir, please. We’re so far from home and weary from our travels, anything you can spare.” You looked at the man, giving him your best doe-eyes. “Anything I can spare huh little lady?” He took a step down on the porch stairs, his eyes scanned over you. “How about your husband here gives me whatever he can spare,” Dutch’s arm became tense and he put his hand on yours. “Now gentleman, let's be civil about this.” You could tell by Dutch’s voice that this wasn't going to end well, “What partner?” The man looked at Dutch. “A man needs what a man needs, can't live on food and water alone. Besides, she’s far too pretty for the likes of you.” A knot formed in your stomach.

 

“How dare you speak to her like that!” Dutch’s voice rose an octave and you could hear the tension and anger. “I swear I will kil-“ Just then a shot rang out and the man on the porch steps fell. It was on. You and Dutch jumped away from one another, taking cover behind the wagon Micah was at. Bullets filled the air, hitting the snow with and lighting the windows. You shot a man in the doorway, watching others fall near him. “Damn!” Micah jumped back from a bullet that hit the body in the wagon, the body. You did a double take, looking at the corpse that was underneath the tarp you were leaning on. ‘Poor Bastard’ you thought to yourself, thankful whoever it was shot when they did. “There’s a man in the top window!” You heard Dutch yell. You looked above you, a man with a Carbine was aiming at Arthur. Quickly, you set your sights on the man, took a deep breath, and pulled the trigger. 

 

The bullets stopped flying and the area seemed to quiet itself. “Ain’t too pretty of a sight is it there Mrs.Van Der Linde.” Micah motioned to the dead man in the cart. You shook your head. “Hey at least you played a convincing wife huh?” You hated the casual way Micah handled everything.

 

The four of you met in the area just in front of the house. “I had it handled!” Dutch yelled at Micah and Arthur. “Handled my ass, Dutch!” Arthur threw his hands into the air. “Dutch there’s a body in the cart. These men aren't the real homeowners if you couldn't tell.” Micah sarcasm did make you smile from time to time, especially when it was directed at Dutch. “Dutch I gotta ask, what the hell would you have done if we hadn’t shot?” Arthur was fuming, “I would've handled it, Arthur.” Dutch was stern, his lips drawing into a straight line. “Micah, go get the horses.” he pointed towards the trees. “Arthur, Y/N. Go check the house for supplies.” you looked at Arthur, his face tense, he walked into the cabin quietly, but you sensed he was much angrier than he let on as you followed him inside. 

 

You started looking through the cabinets. Arthur went to the back of the house and started to rummage through the medicine cabinet. You looked up after hearing a glass break, “Damn it!” Arthur yelled. You stood up from where you were and walked over to him, he had a temper, but it wasn't like him to lose it on something so small. “Arthur?” You placed your hand on his arm, he stiffened. “Is everything okay?” He put the bottle of medicine down and looked back at you. “I hated the way that man looked at you, the way he spoke to you.” You blinked, unsure of what to say, “Its oka-“ Arthur cut you off. “No, it ain’t. What if me and Micah hadn't been here? You and Dutch couldn't have fought all these bastards. I just,” He took a deep breath, “I just hate that Dutch put you in that position, he shoulda known better, hell, I shoulda known better.” You felt honored that he was so protective of you, but you wanted to put his mind at ease. “Arthur, nothing happened. You don't have to worry about me, I was lucky you were here, I’m always gonna be safe with you in my corner.” He smiled slightly at your words, your hand still on his arm. 

 

You heard the door open and Dutch walked in, instinctively you pulled away from Arthur. Nobody knew what was going on between the two of you, you hadn't had time to tell anyone, but you weren't sure if it was supposed to be a secret or not. You returned to the cabinet under the sink, rummaging for food. Arthur stood by the mantle as Dutch searched a chest at the foot of the bed. “Looks like whoever lived here before was married.” you looked to see him holding a photograph from the mantle. He set it back down and began to grab blankets off the bed. “Y/N.” You turned around to face Dutch, your arms filled with canned food and crackers. “Why don't you go fill the saddlebags with this stuff, Arthur and I will go check the barn.” You took your armful of supplies out to the horses, stuffing cans, cracker tins, and medicine into any space you could find. As you were stuffing a can of peaches into your bag, you heard shouts coming from the barn. 

 

You rushed as quickly as you could towards the barn, right on Dutch’s heels. The barn door was open and you could see Arthur fighting with a man, “What's going on in here?” Dutch asked, slightly amused. “This bastard was hiding and waiting to kill me!” Arthur landed a right hook on the man's jaw, sending him into the dirt. “Seems like these men were a bunch of O’Driscoll’s!” Arthur got onto of the man and began to beat him, asking him questions after each punch. “It seems like you have this handled Arthur, do what you want with him.” You and Dutch turned and began walking back to the house. It never bothered you seeing Arthur fight or rough someone up, even though he was tough and terrifying to most, he really was a gentleman, he just did what he had to to keep everybody safe. “Why would the O’Driscoll’s be all the way out here?” Dutch asked. “I don't know,” You looked at the snow surrounding your legs. “Maybe they wanted to settle down, start a family, retire.” Dutch laughed. “Sure, that’ll be the day!” You adjusted Dutch’s jacket on your shoulders, “Thank you,” You told him, his brown eyes sparkled at you, those were some of the first words you'd spoken to him in days. “For the jacket. I appreciate you letting me borrow it.” He nodded, “Of course! I couldn’t stand the thought of you becoming a block of ice!” You threw him a bone and laughed at his silly joke.

 

“Agh! Agh!” You turned around to see where the yelling was coming from, the man who attacked Arthur was running wildly into the frozen forest. Arthur was coming from the barn, leading a horse, and putting his hat back on and moving as swiftly as he could through the snow. “I see you let him go huh?” Arthur nodded, “He won’t last long in this anyways.” “And you found a horse,” you added. “Yep, figure he cant replace Boadicea, but he’ll do.” The three of you continued towards the house. “He said something about the O’Driscoll’s being at some mining camp up here and that they were planning to hit a train.” Arthur sniffed, wiping his nose. Dutch rubbed his chin, probably making some sort of a plan. 

 

“AHHHH!” You heard screams coming from the cabin, but it was a woman’s voice. You looked at Arthur, confused. The three of you ran into the cabin to see a woman screaming and waving a knife at Micah. “Woo,” Micah taunted. “Look what I found in the cellar! Wild thing ain’t ya!” The woman yelled, throwing anything she could at Micah. “Leave her alone!” Dutch ordered Micah, “I wasn't doing nothing!” He hollered back. “She’s one of them O’Driscoll’s!” you looked at the woman, dirty, exhausted, and obviously terrified. “No, she isn’t you piece if shit!” You felt yourself coming unglued as the words spilled from your mouth. “No she ain’t,” Dutch echoed your remark, “Miss! Miss!” He called to her, trying to calm her down. Micah flipped a table, a lantern crashed to the floor, the flame engulfing the rug that covered the floor. You wanted to help her, calm her, but there were so many people already prodding at her. Dutch called Micah a fool, pushing him back towards Arthur who angrily pushed him back toward the wall. 

 

Your anger saw the chance and you decided to run with it. Pulling your knife from its sheath you held it up to Micah’s throat, “I swear, if ever treat a poor woman like that again, I will castrate you.” You could see the slight fear in his eyes as he decided if you were serious or not. “Alright there princess, just calm down, I wasn't hardly doing anything, just teasing a little that's all.” You pushed the edge of your blade closer to his stubbled neck, “I don't care, don't do it again.” You pushed him back into the wall as you put your knife away. “It is going to be okay.” You could hear Dutch telling the woman. He put his arm around her and began to lead her outside saying “We’d better get out of here. Quick.” Arthur flashed you a look, though you weren't sure what it meant as you followed Dutch out of the burning house.

 

“They came three days ago.” The woman was explaining her situation to Dutch, “My husband, they-“ She was cut off by her own sobs. “Miss, Miss, you are safe now.” Dutch had wrapped her in a blanket, but she still shivered, “You can't stay here,” he told her, looking back at the flames that enveloped her home.”You come with us.” Dutch handed Arthur the lantern he was holding and Arthur put his arm around the woman. You knew you weren't too far from camp and seeing her wearing just a nightgown made you cringe, you took off your jacket and gently grabbed her arm. “Ma’am.” She turned to look at you, her face seeming to soften at the realization that she wasn't the only woman there. “Ma’am, please take this.” You held out the jacket you’d been wearing. She nodded to you, taking the coat and putting it on, the only thank you she could manage at the moment. 

 

Arthur looked at you his face contorted into a worry. He began to unbutton his own jacket and you shook your head at him, he feigned frustration as he walked her toward Dutch’s horse. “Miss. It's okay. We’re bad men, but we ain’t them.” He helped her onto the back of the horse, “We’ll keep you safe till you figure out what you wanna do.” You could hear Dutch talking to her as you all rode back to camp, but you weren't sure what he was asking or what she was answering. Arthur kept looking back at you, worry stretched across his face watching you wrap your arm around yourself in the cold.

 

You finally made it back to camp, the gang running outside to greet you all. Dutch explained what had happened to those gathered around, and introduced them to “poor Mrs. Adler.” You made a mental note of her name. You were having a hard time focusing on Dutch’s words, the cold and the exhaustion seeming to finally catch up with you. Tilly and Karen took Mrs. Adler inside, you watched the poor woman who had just lost everything dear to her walk into the main building. “I haven't slept in three days,” Dutch said, Mrs. Grimshaw was holding a lantern and directed them on where to go. She turned to you and Arthur, who had put his arms around you, trying to keep you warm. “Miss, Y/N, I thought I got you a jacket!” her tone was half offended and half startled. “Oh you did, Mrs. Grimshaw. Just wasn't really my style that's all.” She gave you a stern look and lifted her finger as if she was going to lecture you, but then thought better of it and put her hand down. “You and Mr.Morgan are in a room over here. Sorry, you two have to share, it's just a little crowded.” You tried to hide the excitement you had with being able to share a room with Arthur. “Thank you.” You both said as you made your way to the shack that Grimshaw had motioned to. You could hear Micah bitching about something being you, but you were too tired to care.

 

Arthur held the door open, handing you the lantern as you made your way inside. There were two-bedrolls laid out in a small room off to the side, an old steel bellied stove burned hot, the warmth a welcome change to the cold you couldn’t seem to get away from. You sat down next to the fire, holding out your hands and letting the heat envelop you. The door creaked closed and Arthur sat down next to you. “Hey.” He said, “Hey,” You replied. You looked at him, the flame from the stove dancing in his eyes, “I’ll be honest, Darlin. I think I mighta fallen in love with you watching you threaten Micah like that.” you laughed, “So that’s all it takes huh?” He smiled at you, nodding. “Well, I’ll have to threaten Micah more often then,” you told him. He wrapped his arms around you, letting you fall into his chest. 

 

He kissed the top of your head and you took a deep breath of his familiar and comfortable smell. “Oh Arthur,” You felt a lump in your throat forming. “Arthur, these past few days have been some of the hardest of my life.” He held you tighter. “Mine too, Y/N. Mine too.” You felt yourself start to cry, tears streaked down your face as you let your emotion take over. Everything from loosing people, to everything with Dutch, the cold, the exhaustion, it all came pouring out. You could feel Arthur’s jaw tighten, and when you looked at him his eyes were misty and sad. You did your best to give him a half smile and he looked down at where your head rested in the crook of his neck. He leaned down and kissed you. After pulling away he brushed away a tear from your cheek with his thumb and said, “Tell me your troubles, Darlin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Thanks so much for reading!


	9. Searching and Finding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pearson is stressed because there's no food and Arthur finally shows you his journal.

The morning came with snowflakes that snuck through the cracks in the panels of the walls, laying themselves on the canvas of your bedroll. ‘Well, at least the weather seems to be a constant thing we have,’ You thought to yourself. Each breath you took left a vapor that lingered in the air, even in your warm bedroll and the body heat of Arthur next to you, it was still freezing. You could hear his gentle snores as you looked over at him, his light brown hair falling over his to the side. His arm was wrapped around you, so you did your best not to move, besides, there really wasn't anywhere else you’d want to be. 

 

Talking to Arthur last night was liberating. After days of pent up emotions and exhaustion, you needed up just spilling everything to him, all the frustration, the grief, and worry for the future. He just held you and listened, nodding, and offering some quiet “Damn”’s in response. He was surprised to hear about Dutch killing that girl, you could tell it bothered him a lot more than he let on. “I don't know what’s gotten into him,” He’d told you last night, “He isn't himself you know.” 

 

Arthur began to stir, his blue eyes opening to the rest of the world. He stretched his arms out and groaned, then turned to you and smiled. He began to stroke your hair, brushing it behind your ear before planting a little kiss on your lips. “Goodmornin.” He said, pulling away and grinning at you. “Goodmorning, Arthur.” You pulled yourself closer to him, placing your hand on his chest. The two of you lay there for a moment, letting the sounds of the outside seep into the little shack you were in. You could hear the crackle of the fire in the little potbellied stove, “How is the fire still going?” You looked at Arthur who shrugged. “I didn't want you to get too cold, so I fed it all night.” Your eyes widened, “Arthur! You should’ve been sleeping!” He looked at you, not phased by your frustration. “I got plenty of sleep!” He laughed. 

 

You rolled your eyes at him, concealing the blush you felt on your cheeks from the sentiment. “Well, it’s not my fault that you're too soft for an outlaw,” Arthur said, raising his eyebrows at you. You sat up, looking down at him as the cold air began to blow through your union suit. “What do you mean?” you feigned offense. “You gave your jacket away!” He sat up now too, “She was in a nightgown, Arthur!” He laughed. “I know that, Y/N! I’m just saying that you're pretty soft for a tough woman on the run from the law.” You pushed him back into the bedroll, he let out a small groan. “I am not, Morgan.” He looked at you, rubbing your back gently, “Shore you aren’t.” You flashed him a smile and lay down next to him, interlacing your hand with his and looking at the callouses that covered his hands. After a few moments Arthur spoke up, “Well Darlin, as much as I’d love to spend the day tangled up in bed with you, we’d best start the day.” You loved the thought of spending a day in bed with him, but this was the first time he’d ever mentioned something so suggestive.

 

When the two of you walked out of the room you were in, the jacket you’d lent Mrs.Adler was folded gently in front of the door. You thought of the poor woman and hoped that she was able to sleep, making mental note to check on her later as you shrugged the jacket on. 

 

You and Arthur walked outside to see what Pearson had managed to whip up for breakfast. You could smell coffee brewing which was always a good sign, but the growl within your stomach was getting a little annoying. Pearson was sitting next to a fire under a small bard, coals were scattered along underneath a makeshift spit. He stood, rubbing his hands together and stood up, his heavy breaths were quick and clear. “We’re going to starve to death up here Mr. Morgan.” He looked at the two of you with a grim face. “We’re okay,” Arthur replied casually. Pearson went over to a small table near the entrance of the barn. “We have a few cans of food and a rabbit. For what, ten, twelve people. When I was in the navy-“ “I do not wish to hear what you got up to when you were in the navy Mr.Pearson.” Arthur interrupted, you loved Pearson, but you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. “We were stranded at sea for fifty days.” “And you unfortunately survived!” Arthur was laying into Pearson, they never seemed to get along the best. “When we ran away from Blackwater, I didn't have time to get supplies in!” “Well, when government agents are hunting you down, sometimes shopping trips have to be cut short.” Pearson and Arthur looked at one another, “We’ll survive, we always have. If needs be, we can eat you, you're the fattest.” Pearson ignored the jab, carrying a big Cast Iron pot on the spit, “I sent Lenny and Bill out hunting and they found nothing.” Arthur shook his head, “Lenny’s more into book learning than hunting and Bill, well, Bill’s a fool. Unless those mountains are full of game that want to read, there’s no wonder-” 

 

Charles cut in, tired of the bickering, “Enough of this, we’ll go find something, come’n Arthur.” Arthur nodded to Charles, he and Pearson were starting to sound like Molly and Mrs.Grimshaw. “Wait a second, hold on.” Pearson went back to the table where he’d stashed the food. “Here.” He handed Arthur a jar. “You’re going to need something to eat out there.” Arthur turned the jar over in his hands, “Assorted, Salted Offal?” He looked at Pearson, “Starving would be preferable.” “Charles was done with the sarcasm, “Come on.” He told Arthur. Arthur looked at Charles' hand, bandaged and obviously causing him pain, “You can’t go hunting, look at your hand.” You couldn't help but agree with Arthur, “I can't stay here listening to you two.” Charles cast a glance between Pearson and Arthur. “Look if there’s game in those hills I’ll find it, and you can kill it.” He looked at Arthur.

 

“Charles you really should get some rest.” You spoke up, seeing your breath vaporize with each word. “You think this is rest?” Charles looked at you, then back to Arthur. “Come along. He turned and headed towards the horses. Arthur flashed you a look that told you he’d be back later and you nodded. 

 

You could hear the sound of the horses trotting through the deep snow. “What a damn trip huh, Y/N?” You made your way to the fire, reaching up to warm your hands. “You know it.” Shaking your head you looked up at Pearson. “Sorry I can't sneak you an extra can of peaches like usual.” You smiled at the memories of the years of him constantly sneaking you little snacks and treats. “Maybe I should’a saved them all, then we’d have something to eat up here.” Pearson let our a small laugh, the first one you’d heard from him in days. “Nah.” He shook his head. “Then they would’ve been left behind with all the rest of your stuff, its good you ate them when you did!” You smiled at him, reminding yourself to appreciate the little moments like this. Pearson brought you a cup of coffee and you let the warm, but watery, liquid warm you from the inside.

 

The two of you sat there for a while, small talking about what was going on and wondering what was going to happen before Dutch came out. “Good morning you two.” He went straight for the coffee, pouring himself a cup as he stood next to the small fire. “What's the food situation Mr.Pearson.” He looked at the stumpy, balding man. “I sent Charles and Arthur out hunting, otherwise its bleak to say the best.” Dutch took a long sip of his coffee, “Good plan, they'll come back with something.” You were surprised by his confidence, you’d expected him to be more cynical about it all. “Y/N?” You turned to face him. “Mrs. Grimshaw informed me that all of your things were left behind, let me know if there is anything at all you need and I will try and scrounge something up for you.” He looked at him, gentle, fatherly care, taking over his face. “Thank you, Dutch. I appreciate that.” He gave you one of his hand smiles and you weren't sure if you wanted to hug him or punch him in the face.

 

You left the area where Pearson and Dutch continued to drink their coffee, making your way to the horses. Growing up you’d led pack strings of mules and horses, always having a solid herd around your father taught you how to care for them. You’d learned to shoe horses when you were a teenager and that’d become the main job for you once you’d joined the gang, there were always plenty of horses to trim, re-shoe, and maintain throughout the year. You made your way to the hitching rail where they were all tied, pulling your hoof pick from your saddle you began to pick the compacted ice balls that formed on the underside of their hooves from each horses foot. You kept yourself busy by doing each horse and making sure that the shoes were still good and tight. 

 

Arthur had made it back by the time you had finished checking the shoes on The Count. “Hey, there cowgirl.” Arthur set his hand on the horses hip, his face was wind burnt and blood was streaked down the side of his jacket. “I take it hunting went well?” You pointed to the mess. “Oh, this? Nah, we didn't find anything so we ended up eating Pearson as I suggested earlier.” You playfully hit him on the arm, he always knew how to get you giggling. “Charles and I bagged a couple of deer, should tide us over till we can weather through this storm and get out of here.” He raised his eyebrows as he finished his sentence. 

 

“What were you up to while I was gone? Lazing the day away?” The two of you began to walk towards the room you shared. “Well considering I haven't contracted Lumbago, I went ahead and tried to make myself useful.” Arthur laughed and you swore you heard Uncle yell “What?” From a few feet away. “I just checked the shoes on the horses and got the frozen now that was packed in their hooves, I figured we shouldn't have horses that are skating.” Arthur looked at you, “You’re probably right, as entertaining as that’d be.” Arthur opened the door for you and you made your way inside of the building and into the little room where your bedrolls were. 

 

The fire had gone out so you grabbed the wood and began to build one. The sound of a pencil against paper filled the air and you knew that Arthur was scribbling away in his journal. You watched the flames grow and when they were big enough, you shut the stove door. Arthur continued to write or draw or whichever he was doing, you were content just watching him, but part of you wished you had one of the books that’d been left behind. “Hey, Morgan.” He looked up from what he was doing. “Have you finished what it was you agreed to show me?” You swore you saw a redness appear at his cheeks, the kind that wasn't from the cold. “I-ah” He looked back down and stood up from where he sat, sitting next to you in silence. 

 

“Look, I don't know why I'm just a little nervous to share this with you.” You put your hand on his knee, “Don’t be.” He opened his journal and began to thumb quickly though is pages; it was full of pages of writing, large sketches and little doodles here and there He stopped on a page and handed it to you. There you were, sitting by the campfire, dutch oven over the flame, your hair in two braids, and a stare into the distance. “Arthur.” was all you could manage, it was incredible. He wasn’t an artist by any means, but it took your breath away because there were meaning and intention behind every line. “This was the other night when you and I went hunting.” He pointed at the page, “see the peach cobbler there? I could really use one of them right about now.” He gave you a wink and scooted himself closer to you.

 

“Over the years, I’ve found that you’re one of my favorite things to draw.” He took the journal and began flipping back in its pages. Years of memories and moments flooded the pages, you seemed to be in almost all of them. “Here’s you that time we tried hunting Bighorn,” There you were holding binoculars, on the side of a mountain, from Arthur’s view. He turned to another page, “Here’s you during that bank heist a couple of years ago.” He had drawn you, a shotgun in your hands and a mean look on your face. “Oh man!” He laughed loudly, chuckling as he handed the journal to you. “I love this one!” It was you the day that Hosea and Dutch had thrown you and Tilly into the creek because you were teasing them. He’d drawn the two of you, flying into the water with a big splash, you laughed with Arthur, part of you longing for those simpler times. “But this one is my favorite I think, he turned to the middle of the journal, leaning on a page that stood out. It was you, sitting in the meadow near your old camp, reading. You remembered that day, you and Arthur were sick of the hustle and bustle of camp so the two of you took a pot of coffee and sat in the meadow for a couple of hours, neither of you saying a word.

 

“This one.” he put his finger to it. “This is when I knew I was in love with you.” His words caught you off guard. His blue eyes stared deeply into yours, “I mean, I suppose I was kinda sweet on you from the start, but it was this day, this moment, that I knew I had to make you mine somehow.” There it was, the words you’d been waiting for what seemed like decades. “Arthur.” You touched a hand to his face, “After all these years, all these memories and moments and little sketches and here I am, all yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! Let me know what you think and don't hesitate if you have any suggestions about anything you would like to see!


	10. Everybody knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John gets rescued, an O'Driscoll gets caught, oh, and it seems that everybody knows about the two of you.

The next morning Abigail was in a frenzy from the moment you and Arthur walked into the main building. “Arthur.” Her tone was stern but with a hint of fear, this worried you, she wasn't one who scared easy. “How you doing?” she stood and walked closer to Arthur as he warmed his hands near the fire. He turned to face her, “Just fine Abigail, You?” She looked at her feet and you could see her getting nervous, “I need you to, I’m sorry, I’m sorry to ask this-“ Arthur chimed in, “It’s little John.” He shook his head and you knew the grumpy sarcasm he was so keen to was about to come out. “He’s got himself caught in a scrape again-“ “He ain’t been seen in two days!” She was furious now, looking at Arthur with the meanest eyes she could muster, but despite their menace, the sorrow shone through.

 

Arthur gestured with his hands, “Your John will be just fine. I mean he may be dumb as rocks and as dull as rusted iron but that ain’t changing because he got caught in some snowstorm!” You could understand Arthurs frustration with John. He had left his family high and dry for nearly a year, off doing whatever it was he was doing, and even though Arthur didn't have much family, he stood by what little had come high or hell water. 

 

Hosea stepped in, “Please go take a look.” He looked at Arthur, his tone matching his raised eyebrows. “Javier.” You hadn't realized that Javier was sitting next to the fire.”Yes” he answered. “Javier, will you ride out with Arthur to take a look for John? You're the two best-fit men we’ve got.” You looked around, everybody looked tired and sick, you counted it a blessing that even though you were always cold and tired that you were still relatively healthy. “Now?” Javier looked concerned. “She’s,” Hosea looked to Abigail, “We’re all pretty worried about him. Javier nodded and began to get up from his seat, “I know, if the situation were reversed, he’d go look for me.” Javier spun his pistol in his hand and looked at Arthur. “I can go too.” You spoke up and Hosea and Arthur looked at you. “No need to bother Javier, I’ll go look for little John with Y/N.” Arthur turned and started walking towards the door. “No,” Hosea’s answer surprised you. Arthur turned around, his mustache and mouth both turned into a frown. “I need you here with me, to help with the horses.” You felt like that was a lie, but you accepted it anyway. “Alright.” 

 

You followed Arthur and Javier out to the horses. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to grab some ammo.” Javier ran towards the bunkhouse where his stuff was. Arthur said nothing and pulled you into a kiss. He smelt of woodsmoke and the musty damp of old snowed in buildings. He kissed you long and hard for a few seconds, slipping his tongue to part your lips ever so slightly. He pulled away when he heard the familiar sound of footprints in the snow, “I wish you were coming with me, Darlin.” You smiled, “You and me both, mister.” You adjusted his collar before smiling at him and patting his arm. “Ready Arthur?” Javier had mounted his horse. You stepped back as Arthur got on his horse and rode away with Javier. Standing there you watched for a moment in silence until Pearson broke it.

 

“Y/N, Did I seriously just see that.” His words caught you off guard and you couldn't help but jump. “Oh no.” He looked at you and burst into laughter, deep belly laughs and breathless “Oh man’s” were coming from him. “Pearson!” You couldn't help but break into laughter alongside him. He took a moment and composed himself, wiping his eyes. “You and Morgan huh?” He put his hands on his hips, his pot belly poking out. “That's the rumor.” You said, raising an eyebrow at him. “Well,” Pearson looked at you. “He’s probably the best one out of this lot, but that doesn't mean he’s good enough for you.” You rolled your eyes, “Okay, dad.” You teased him. “I may not be your father, but I’d still kill him if he ever treated you badly.” That thought was amusing, “What would you do Pearson, Crush him to death?” He gave you the stink-eye, “I learned things in the navy. And I can always put a little something special in his stew.” You point the ladle that was in his hand at you. “Okay Pearson, I’ll warn him.” He smiled at you. “You and Morgan, what a rag-tag pair.” 

 

“Y/N!” Hosea had made his way outside and was calling to you. You walked to him and he put his arm around you as you reached him. “My girl, will you come for a ride with me?” 

 

You rode with Hosea, wondering what all of this was about, the two of you rode for a way until you reached the Adler's homestead. The fire had destroyed the house, but the barn and a few outbuildings were still there. “That poor woman, she lost everything and ended up with us.” You looked over the charred ruins, “Yea, I can't imagine what that’s like.” Hosea turned and looked at you, a confused look on his face. “What do you mean? Of anybody, I’d say you’d be the one who can relate to her most.” His words caught you off guard, you’d never thought of it as a pity thing, you just thought of it as something that happened.

 

“Let's go into the barn, get out from this wind.” You followed Hosea into the barn and put your horses in the pens, letting them graze on the hay that was still good. Hosea was always a quirky man but never led you wrong, so you continued to follow him as he climbed the ladder into the hayloft above you. Once he reached the top, he sat on a bale and motioned for you to come sit next to him. 

 

“Hosea, why did we come all the way out here?” He looked at you and you knew what he wanted, he wanted to know about Blackwater. “Come here girl.” you took a seat and he turned to face you. “I need you to tell me what happened in Blackwater.” You felt the familiar lump in your throat return and began to feel sick. “I wasn't there and nobody is giving me an answer. Dutch just says it was “A mess”, but I know that means something went terribly wrong.” You sat there in silence for a moment. “You’re the only one I know who will give me a straight answer, you’ve always been honest and blunt, two qualities I love about you.” He nudged your arm and you gave him a smile.

 

“It did go terribly wrong.” You looked at him, tears already starting to well up in your eyes. Sitting there on the hay bale you told him everything about Blackwater; Dutch killing Heidi, Pinkerton's being everywhere, all of it. He wrapped his arms around you while you cried talking about those who died and he fought back tears alongside you. When you’d finished telling him the story he put his hand on yours. “My girl, you're like a daughter to me and it breaks my heart to see you cry.” You squeezed his hand, “You’ve always been more of a grandfather to me.” he laughed at you and acted offended. “You know I’m not that old!” The two of you laughed and sat in the comfortable silence that followed. “You remind me of my Bessie, she always was the strongest of us.” You knew he missed her and it was an honor to be compared to her. “Y/N, I’m afraid I’m a little worried.” You turned to face him, knowing that what he was about to say was going to be serious.

 

“Dutch is.” He hesitated, looking down. “Let’s just say Dutch isn't himself recently. I don't know what's going on, he isn't taking my advice like usual and he seems to be easily influenced by some people.” Hosea took a deep breath closing his eyes and looking up towards the ceiling. “I hope he snaps out of it. I may be having more talks like this with you because I think he’s going to be keeping things from me.” “A spy amongst a bunch of outlaws huh?” You shivered a little. “Nah, just a little reconnaissance.” You nodded pulling your coat tighter around you. “Speaking of a little reconnaissance, a little bird told me about you and Arthur.” You felt heat fill in your face. “Oh,” you managed. “By little bird, I mean the man himself. Arthur has been talking my ear about you for years, it was only a matter of time.” You looked at him, the wise man who always knew everything. “I’m happy it finally happened, its a good thing in a mess of piss and shit.” He patted you on the back, “Lets head back if anybody asks, we were hunting.” 

 

Back at camp things were busy. Everybody was gathered in the main lodge and you saw Javier and Arthur’s horses hitched. “Let's hope they found John.” Hosea looked at you as you both made your way to the lodge. Everyone had filed into the open room, you could hear Marston groaning and Arthur saying something about him being ugly. As you broke through the group of people, you saw Marston had long, deep cuts across his face, your heart fluttered at the thought of losing anybody else. “John, I’m glad you're back in almost one piece.” You smiled at him and he nodded at you, clearly exhausted. Abigail ushered everybody away and it had started to get dark. 

 

“Well, shall we go start a fire and climb into bed? Call it an early night?” Arthur looked at you, offering his arm. “Surely Mr. Morgan.” The two of you made your way to your little room and spent the night reading and drawing as the moon slipped into the sky. 

——————————————————————————————————————

 

The next morning left no time for dilly-dallying. Dutch had taken what the O’Driscoll had said about the train robbery and the location of the O’Driscoll camp and devised a plan. After Micah decided to punch Bill in the face, Dutch and Arthur broke it up and Dutch took it as an opportunity to present the next objective. Dutch decided he, along with you, Arthur, Lenny, Javier, Bill, and Micah were all going to pay this camp of O’Driscoll’s a visit.

 

“Are you sure about this Dutch?” Arthur spoke with a cigarette in his mouth, the rest of the men headed to their horses. “Yes.” Dutch glanced at Arthur, his usual confidence filled the air between them. “Folks been through a lot recently, we hardly back on our feet yet.” Arthur was trying to be gentle in speaking to Dutch, but you could hear the slight tension in his voice. “And the last thing we need is to get bushwhacked by Colm O’Driscoll.” Dutch leaned close to Arthur, his voice asserting his dominance. “Let’s go.” He patted Arthur on the back and the group of you mounted your horses in the blowing snow. Arthur and Dutch continued to talk but you couldn’t hear what they were saying besides Dutch contributing to the conversation with, “No, you're just doubting me.” and Arthur replying with something about how “revenge is a luxury we can’t afford.” 

 

Dutch handed Arthur a rifle and a rope and began to explain something excitedly to him. The two of them mounted up and Dutch told Charles, Hosea, and Pearson to look after the place as you all followed Dutch into whatever mess you were headed towards. 

 

It made you uneasy, watching Arthur concerned. In all the years you ran with this gang, you’d never seen him question Dutch, argue and bitch about, sure, but never outright question him. You hated the change that seemed to be seeping into everything and everyone after Blackwater, you almost felt as though nothing could ever become the same as it was even just a few days ago. But, looking at Arthur and the change between the two of you, you were thankful for the way things were becoming different.

 

The ride to the O’Driscoll’s camp was cold and windy as usual. Arthur looked back at you periodically, giving you a couple of his sideways smiles before turning back around. Since the first run you’d ever gone on with him, he’d always tamed your nerves and steadied your mind. The group came to a stop upon a ridge, you could see smoke coming from just over the hill, indicating that the camp was just over the crest.

 

“You all hold here.” Dutch dismounted, “Arthur, Y/N. Come with me.” You dismounted, grabbing your rifle and your binoculars to follow the two men. You stopped on the top of the ridge, overlooking the old mining camp that lay below. A chill rushed over you, you'd been there before. You and your father had delivered supplies up there, packing cans of food, moonshine, and cigarettes on your mules up to the hungry, hard, men that had to winter up there. You tried your best to shake the feeling as you brought your binoculars to your eyes and glassed the buildings below. 

 

“There they are,” Dutch spoke, you saw men on horses and men walking around the abandoned buildings. “That's definitely them.” You continued to look at the men, “Colm?” Arthur asked a whip of vapor following the word. “I think so.” You moved your head to see where they were looking, setting your sight on a man that looked like Colm, only you couldn’t quite tell from this far away. “Yeah, that's him,” Arthur confirmed as you watched the man stretch and how his hands in the air before mounting his horse. A man approached Colm and they seemed to be having an excited conversation, “Who’s he talking to?” Dutch wondered aloud. “He don't seem very happy.” You said, letting a little laugh slip out on the tail of your words. Colm grabbed the man by the neck, “No.” Arthur agreed with you. Colm slapped the poor man and sent him reeling away from him.

 

“They leaving?” Dutch asked as you all watched Colm gather his reins. “Seem to be. Should we go get ‘em?” Arthur pulled the binoculars away from his face to look at Dutch. He shook his head, “No. Colm can wait. Best to get some of them outta there.” You felt relieved that Dutch wasn't wanting to massacre that many men at once, it surprised you that he wasn't jumping at the chance to get his arch enemy, but you were grateful for it. Dutch continued, “And much less fun to rob him and his score if he never finds out about it.” You couldn't help but laugh, you’d been missing the old Dutch who’d seemed to have disappeared that night in Blackwater. This was one of the first glimpses you’d seen of him in a while. 

 

“Alright.” Dutch stood, putting his binoculars back into his satchel. “Let's go pay our old friends a visit.” The three of you made your way back to the horses and the rest of the group, Arthur caught your hand on the way back and gave it a tight squeeze, looking at you before letting it go. ‘God am I glad you're with me.’ you thought to yourself. Arthur grabbed his rifle from his horse and you grabbed a shotgun, slinging the rifle in your hands over your shoulder. Dutch ordered Lenny and Javier to cover the rest of you from the top. 

 

You followed the men as you snuck down the mountain. You purposefully stepped in Arthur’s tracks, trying to keep your feet from making too much noise. You were a tad shorter than him, making some steps quite a reach to match his stride. The sound of boots in the snow and the faint conversations of men in the camp were all that filled the air. You made it to a cluster of trees and followed Dutch and Arthur into a small barn. You took cover behind the half wall that looked out towards the camp. Each of you raised your weapons and you switched to your rifle, slinging the shotgun over your shoulder, and set your sights on a bearded man with dark hair and a beer belly. You followed the man with your iron sights, his head between the pins. You could hear the breath of those next to you, you could hear your own. The count began in your head, ‘one’ ‘two’ ‘three’ ‘four’ There seemed to be a hesitation, the man you were aiming at started to head behind a building and you knew it was now or never. With a deep breath in you pulled the trigger towards you, BANG.

 

“What the Hell are you doing?!” Dutch yelled in your direction. “Damn it!” The shots began to fly and you soon had another man in your sights. You could hear Dutch next to you yelling something, but you focused on taking out as many of these sons of bitches as you could. You got as many as you cold from far away, switching to your shotgun you stood from where you were crouched and headed out into the open yard ahead of you. Taking cover behind a wagon you popped up to take out a man in a union suit, he yelled as he fell. The sound of Irish accents in a frenzy filled some of the buildings, you knew they were waiting to plan an attack, it was best to get the jump on them.

 

“There” You pointed towards an ugly shack, “They’re hiding in the buildings we’d best get them now.” Arthur and Micah nodded, following you to the door, Dutch and Bill headed to the other shack. The three of you waited on either side of the door, you stood close to Arthur, hearing his heavy breaths as you nodded to Micah to make the first move. He lifted his leg and kicked the door, sending splinters into the building. He entered first and you follow, brandishing your shotgun as you headed inside. Two men had their pistols aimed at the three of you as you made it through the door, Micah and Arthur made short work of them and you moved back outside.

 

Dutch and Bill had finished off the men who were hiding in the other buildings. “Strip the bodies, strip everything we can from them,” Dutch ordered. The lot of you began the gruesome task of pre-grave, grave robbing. “You recognize any of them Dutch?” Bill’s stupid question rose above the quiet as you took a miracle tonic and a pocket watch from a dead man. You heard a few shots and saw as a few men chased some O’Driscoll’s into the woods and took them down, you continued looting, knowing that they had it handled. 

 

After the looting was done, leaving you with strangers blood on the cuffs of your sleeves, the group reconvened in the open yard. “They’re coming down with the horses,” Dutch pointed to the hillside and you could see Lenny and Javier leading the string down the hill. “Good work boy’s.” Dutch made eye contact with you, “And girl.” he added with a wink. “Now, let's tear this place apart.” Everybody spread out to find the plans for the train job, you headed past the ore carts and into the small foreman's cabin. You remembered your father walking on these same steps, knocking on the door to tell the boss that the supplies were here. You couldn’t help but wonder if he’d be proud of you, running with a bunch of outlaws and killing people in a place like this. But, you remembered what Arthur had said about the O’Driscoll’s near where your father had disappeared and you’d been thrown. You pushed the thought away because these bastards were the reason you were an orphan, besides, it wasn't doing you any good to dwell on what could’ve been.

 

You found little in the cabin beside a few cans of food and a slip that had “Cornwall” written in smudged, sloppy pencil. You met the men outside and saw Bill carrying a box of dynamite and some detonators, Micah was handing Dutch a rolled up blueprint. “This is perfect.” He said, unrolling the worn paper. “A Mr. Leviticus Cornwall.” You looked at the scrap in your hand, shoving it away. “Mount up.” Dutch motioned to the horses. You grabbed your gelding and got on, the snow was still blowing and the cold had begun to eat at you now that your adrenaline had stopped pumping. 

 

Arthur rode up next to you and smiled, his horse nipped at yours. “That was some damn good shootin there, Darlin.” He had that sideways grin on his face that drove you crazy. “Thank you, Mr.Morgan. I mean somebody had to do all the work.” You gave him a wink. “True, but it wasn't my fault that I was a little distracted by some crazy woman blowing bad guy’s away.” You looked back at him, “Aren’t we the bad guy’s Arthur?” He laughed and replied, “Well sorta. Where the bad guy’s but they're the worse bad guy’s.” You rolled your eyes, “I’ll pretend that made sense.” 

 

On the ride back you could hear Dutch yelling one of the long speeches he liked to give after any win against the O’Driscoll’s. No matter how loud he yelled, the people bringing up the rear couldn’t hear a damn thing he was saying, regardless, you let him do it anyways. You were riding next to Lenny now, Dutch had called Arthur up to the front of the group to talk before he started his long-winded speech. “Does he know that we can't hear a damn thing he’s saying?” You landed over to Lenny who laughed and shook his head. “I don't think so, but he sure wouldn't want to know that I like that I can’t hear him.” You laughed loudly, Lenny always made anybody's day brighter. Arthur always spoke so highly of him and told you how much he enjoyed him, you felt the same. “Y/N?” You turned to face him. “Yea?” “I’ve got a question for you, I hope I’m not intruding on your business but I just gotta know.” You felt some color come to your cheeks, you knew the question that was coming. 

 

“Ask away, Lenny.” You adjusted your reins. “What's the deal with you and Arthur? Are you two an item? I mean there’s been talk about in camp since I started riding with you all, but it seems that talk is becoming more serious.” You couldn't help as a smile crept onto your face, giving Lenny the answer before you even spoke. “Yes.” You nodded. “I mean there’s no point in hiding, but he and I really haven't had a chance to talk about it, it happened right before Blackwater and we’ve just been running ever since.” Lenny was grinning at you. “Aw yeah!” His excitement was contagious. “I knew it! Man, I’m so happy that you're willing to put up with Arthur’s cranky ass.” You chuckled at the comment. “I won't tell anyone, Y/N. Lest you want me to?” He raised an eyebrow at you. “Nah, Lenny. Keep it to yourself for now if you don't mind? Not that we’re being secretive, but I think I’d like to focus on getting out of these damn mountains before making some sort of announcement or whatever you're supposed to do.” Lenny nodded, the smile on his face slowly fading.

 

You looked at him, feeling guilty that you and Arthur were able to have each other while Lenny had lost Jenny. Not that they were together, but everybody knew he was sweet on her, and he’d even asked you for advice on how to catch her eye from time to time. Truth be told, she was sweet on him too, you could see it in the way she lit up overtime he came near. 

 

“Hey, Lenny.” He looked at you, the brim of his hat just above his dark eyes. “I’m,” You struggled to find the words. “I’m really sorry about Jenny.” He nodded, a poignant expression took over his face. “I,” You took a deep breath, feeling your throat begin to tighten and your eyes begin to sting. “I’ve really been thinking of you these past few days and I’m sorry I haven't checked on you. If you ever need-“ Lenny cut you off. “I know, Y/N.” He gave you a soft smile. “You’ve always been there and I appreciate that. Its a hard time, but I’m gonna be fine, so don you worry none for me.” You looked at him, he always was incredibly strong, but you knew that loss was something that struck you once everything slowed down. “Okay.” You said, “I’m glad to have you as my friend Lenny.” “I’m glad too.” He smiled and looked forward.

 

You heard a commotion in front of you and saw the faint outline of a man on a horse up ahead. You heard Dutch talking hurriedly and watched as Arthur pulled out his rope and began to chase after the man. “Arthur is going after an O’Driscoll!” Dutch announced to the rest of you. He received a couple hoots and hollers and even a whistle from Micah. “The rest of us will head back to camp, he’ll catch up with us all later.” 

 

Once you were back to camp you decided it was time to check in with Mrs. Adler, you took what Hosea said to heart and figured it might be worth talking to her. You looked for the rest of the ladies, knowing that she was likely with them. They were in the main building playing dominoes, Tilly’s favorite game. You could hear her laugh and Karen groan as Tilly laid her piece. Mrs. Adler was sitting huddled next to the fire. “Hey, mind if I join you?” She seemed surprised to see your face but nodded. You took a seat on an overturned box next to her. “How are you holding up?” She didn't look your way, “Fine.” she said. “I just.” You always struggled when it came to hard conversations. “I know how you feel.” She shot you a look that contradicted what you just said. “I mean, I guess I sorta know how you feel. My father was killed, likely by the O’Driscoll’s and I was left bloodied and alone until Arthur found me and the gang took me in.” She was listening, you could tell, but she was staring into the flames. “I know our experiences aren’t the same, but I just, if you need anything just let me know.” With that you stood to leave, “Thank you.” She looked at you this time, her eyes are misty and tired. You gently touched her shoulder and left her alone.

 

Arthur had made it back after capturing the O’Driscoll and was unsaddling his horse when you went outside. “Hey Cowboy.” You cooed at him. “Hey, there honey.” He carried his saddle into the room where you two were staying. “How was getting the O’Driscoll?” You pulled your boots off, “Nothing too special, like roping a calf.” He shrugged off his jacket and added a log to the fire. “You know, I can help you with that.” He had turned around and was watching you struggle with your other boot. “Alright.” He grabbed it by the heel and slid it off your foot, but he didn't put your foot down after the boot was off. He held your socked foot in his hand and slipped your sock off. His eyes were full of what looked to be wild desire and as his other hand crept up your leg you wondered where this was going. He flashed you a smile and you thought this might be the first time you make love. Just then the smile widened along with his eyes and he began to tickle your foot, leaving you squirming in a puddle of laughter. He stopped and returned to tending the fire, giggling at his handiwork. 

 

With Arthur turned around, you began to unbutton your blouse and you slipped off your belt and trousers. Arthur turned around just as you slipped your pants over your hips, leaving you in your union suit and one sock. “You know, I can help you with that too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! Sorry for the long pause between chapters, I should have them out more consistently now! I hope you enjoy:)


	11. Train-ing time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Its time to introduce the gang to dear old Leviticus Cornwall.

The still dark morning came with a cold that seemed to seep into your bones. You were cuddled as close to Arthur as you could be, the fire had gone out but man you didn't want to move from the cold, but warmer than outside air, bedroll. Arthur was sleeping soundly, the man seemed to radiate heat, even naked, but you lay there, eyes open to the chill that was taking over your body. ‘Alright on the count of three.’ you told yourself, knowing that any hope of warmth was sitting next to the fireplace in the form of chopped wood. 

 

You pushed yourself out of the bedroll and half crawled your way to the stove. Freezing and holding your body tightly, you put the kindling in, letting a small flame start before adding the larger logs. You sat there, watching the fire consume the logs as the light from the flame danced off your skin. You were thankful for the fact that it lit quickly, there’d been mornings and middle nights where you had sat there for half an hour before the flames finally took. Arthur always struggled to light fires and you teased him incessantly.

 

“What are you doin?” A sleepy, raspy voice surprised you. You jumped a little and faced Arthur who had rolled over to look at you. “I didn't mean to wake you.” You whispered back. His eyes widened and a stupid grin filled his face, “What?” You asked him. He giggled in response. “Darlin. Do you always start fires in your birthday suit?” He said, giving you a once over with his bright blue eyes. You looked down and realized that you were stark naked. “Oh!” You exclaimed, covering yourself the best you could. Arthur gave you a sly look and pulled back the blankets to let you in. “You’d better get back in here before I come out there and we both freeze.” He said, looking at you with hungry eyes. You smiled back at him and climbed into the bedroll, letting him pull you into a deep kiss.

 

The day began with you and Arthur both in a great mood, something about last nights antics made you both giddy and glowing. “I’m gonna go check on John, you go get yourself some breakfast.” Arthur motioned for you to head towards the barn where Pearson was making whatever it was he was making. You grabbed a cup of coffee and made small talk with Hosea and Mary-Beth about the clearing weather while you waited to hear the day’s agenda. 

 

You were saddling your horse when Arthur and Dutch both emerged from the building where John was, Dutch came out telling Bill to ride ahead and set the charges. “Why are we doin this?” Hosea asked, walking towards Dutch. “Weather is breaking, we could leave. I thought we was lying low.” Dutch continued to put some things in his saddlebag and turned to face him. “What do you want from me, Hosea?” Dutch seemed to be glaring at him. You could cut the tension between the two of them with a knife. “I just don't want any more folks to die, Dutch,” Hosea said, walking closer to Dutch. “Were living, Hosea, we’re living. Look at me, we’re living! Even you.” Dutch was trying hard to make his argument, but Hosea had started to turn away. “But we need money, Everything we have is in Blackwater, You fancy heading back there?” Dutch asked, leaning his hand on his horses hip. 

 

Hosea shook his head. “No.” He shook his head, “Listen Dutch, I ain’t trying to undermine you, I just wanna stick to the plan which is to lie low, then head back out west. Now suddenly were about to rob a train.” Hosea’s words seemed tired, but you agreed with him. “What choice have we got?” Dutch asked. It was a hard situation, you knew you all needed money, but it was a huge risk robbing this train. “Leviticus Cornwall’s no joke, Dutch. He’s-“ Arthur cut Hosea off, “Who is Leviticus Cornwall?” Arthur asked. “He's a big railway magnate, sugar dealer, oil man,” Hosea explained. “Well, how good for him.” Dutch laughed. “Sounds like he has more than enough to share.” “Dutch!” Hosea cried, you could see the worry covering his face, it killed you that there was such animosity between him and Dutch.

 

“Gentleman! It’s time to make something of ourselves!” Dutch yelled and walked away from Hosea and Arthur, You could see Arthur trying his best to assure Hosea that everything was going to be just fine. “Get your horses ready, We have a train to rob!” Dutch finished his rouse and stepped on his horse, you did the same. Part of the gang followed Dutch out of Colter towards the tracks. 

 

Charles was back riding with you all, you were glad to see his hand was healed up enough to be able to ride along. Dutch gave orders as you rode, You, Arthur, and Micah were told to head straight to the back where Mr. Cornwall’s personal car was. “You, me and Y/N, Morgan!” Micah seemed excited to work with the two of you again, you rolled your eyes at the thought. “Great!” Arthur said, his sarcasm loud and clear. “You got a problem with that?” Micah asked, obvious frustration in his voice. “Not if you keep your head for once!” Arthur yelled back at him, he never was one to bite his tongue. “You worry about yourself!” Micah said, he was obviously offended. 

 

The ride was smooth, save for the arguing between Micah and Arthur that continued. The weather had let up and you all stopped on a small ridge overlooking the tracks where the train began its ascent into the mountains. Bill was near the tracks, setting up some explosives. You wondered why Dutch always recruited Bill to do the explosives, he was terrible at it, maybe he was just hoping that he'd end up blowing himself up. “Is Bill down there?” Dutch asked, looking at Arthur. “Yea.” He replied. “Why don't you go down there and see if he needs some help?” Arthur followed Dutch’s order and headed down to the rails and began to unspool some wire. You could see him shaking his head at Bill, but you couldn’t hear what they were saying. 

 

Soon enough, Arthur had ridden back up to where the rest of you were. “Put on your masks,” Dutch ordered, you put your silk wild rag up to cover your face and heard the familiar whistle and chug of a steam train coming around the corner. Bill was crouched behind a rock, the plunger in front of him, waiting for the moment to push it down. The train kept rolling and you wondered when it would blow, then you heard Dutch curse. Bill was waving his hands and jumping up and down. “Damnit, Bill!” Arthur yelled, hopping off his horse. A few of you jumped off to follow Arthur, you had to catch that train.

 

You ran as fast as you could, your sore and tired legs pushing as hard as they were able. Running had never been your strong suit, Arthur was the one who was fast. You used to race him everywhere when you were younger, to the creek, to dinner, hell, you even raced to bed. For a bow-legged cowboy, he was pretty agile. You were faster than Micah at least, his pot belly seemed to slow him down as you passed him on the way to the train. He stopped and turned back around while you, Arthur, Lenny, and Javier came to the other side of the tunnel where the train was moving out. You saw Arthur and Lenny jump without hesitation, and even though you knew you couldn't hesitate, you did. You looked to your left and Javier had stopped for a moment, then yelled “Jump Mija!” You listened, launching yourself off the top of the tunnel and landing with a hard thud on the roof of the last train car. You pushed yourself up against the harsh wind, Javier had jumped right behind you, but he was nowhere to be seen. “Javier?” You called out. “Here!” you looked to the end of the caboose and saw his thin fingers hanging on to the edge, you rushed to grab his hand, but just as you go there, his hand slipped. “Ah!” You heard him cry out in pain, but he sat up after he stopped tumbling, showing you that he wasn't dead. 

 

You turned around and saw Arthur and Lenny Disappear between two train cars, you made your way across the top of the car, your hair whipping in your face from the wind. Holding onto your hat, you jumped down onto the platform between two cars and made your way into the rail car. “Over there, Arthur!” Lenny yelled, followed by the blast of a shotgun. You could see Lenny and Arthur two cars ahead of you and you ran to catch up with them. Swinging your shotgun from your shoulder, you fired at a man who poked around the door of the car just in front of the three of you.

 

Arthur looked back, seemingly surprised that you were there. “Nice of ya to show up Darlin.” He winked at you, reloading his pistol while you kept watch ahead of you. “I’ve always had impeccable timing Morgan.” You said to him, following Lenny through the next boxcar. You were three cars from the engine, and the quicker you stopped the train the better. The three of you made show work of the next two cars, men hiding behind storage trunks didn't stand a chance. The car before the engine was full of lumber and had several men behind the logs firing at you, pinning you down. You were able to get one of them with a lucky pot-shot, but the other two were a little quicker. “Damn this,” Arthur yelled, standing up. Your heart jumped as he leaped over the lumber and shot the two men swiftly and quickly. Lenny looked at you with wide and confused eyes, your face mirroring the same expression. The two of you jumped over the lumber and made your way towards the engine. Just then, you saw Arthur climb the engine and get whacked in the face with a shovel by the conductor. He and the man began to wrestle and Lenny pulled his pistol out. “No!” You held out your hand, “There’s no way you have a clear shot.” He looked at you. “I know, but just in case I get one.” He said, aiming his gun in their direction. 

 

Arthur and the men wrestles, the man seeming to have the upper hand after giving Arthur a concussion. With a couple of aimed elbows and punches to the face, Arthur was able to fight the man off and toss him off the train. You and Lenny let out a joint sigh of relief. The train suddenly skidded to a halt, smoke and the sequel of metal on metal filled the air. 

 

You didn't have a chance to breathe after the train stopped, more men had come out of their hiding places and were rushing the three of you. You followed Arthur behind a rock and could see his nose was crooked and bleeding and his eyes were already starting to blacken. You worried about him, but there wasn't time to fuss. Aiming your rifle, you fired at the men guarding the train, picking them off one by one as the three of you made your way to the armored caboose. Arthur offered Lenny words of encouragement along the way, telling him “Good shooting Kid.” whenever he took a guard out. Although it was pertaining to killing people, it warmed your heart to see Arthur as a mentor to young Lenny.

 

After making short work of the guards, everyone convened back at the personal car of Leviticus Cornwall. Dutch asked if you three were alright and headed towards the car stating, “We’ve got some boys holed up in this last car.” You all walked towards the car and Dutch spoke, “What are you boys planning on doing in there?” There was only silence. “Listen to me, we don't want to kill any of ya…anymore of ya.” He chuckled slightly. “I give you my word, but trust me, we will.” The gang sat there in silence, waiting for an answer. 

 

“I work for Leviticus Cornwall.” A southern voice came from inside the steel can. Dutch threw up his hands, “Come on boys!” he said. “We got our orders!” The man inside replied. “Okay. You asked for it.” Dutch yelled, then began a count down. “Five, four.” His three to one was more of a mumble than an actual countdown, but at one, her ordered you all to fire at the car. You aimed your shotgun at the steel and pulled the trigger towards you, the sound of lead hitting steel rang in your ears, leaving a bell-like sound lingering. The shots only dented the steel.

 

Dutch ordered Bill to give Arthur and Charles some Dynamite, relieving him of his previous job. Arthur and Charles stuck the TNT to the wall of the car and everyone took cover after they lit the fuses. Debris rained over you and you coughed up the sharp smoke that only Dynamite makes. There was a gaping hole now in the side of the car and Dutch ordered the men to come out. “We don't want to kill you, we just want to rob your boss,” Dutch told them. He then ordered some of the gang to search the train. You stayed with the men and kept your eyes, and your sights on them. 

 

After a few minutes, Arthur came out with a stark of bonds and handed them to Dutch. Dutch looked pleased and told Arthur to get the train out of there and either kill the men or put them on the train. Arthur did the latter, loading the men onto the train and sending it down the rails before meeting back up with you. You had waited for him, you didn't want him riding back alone with a concussion. 

 

“What are you doing still here?” He said, pulling his mask down and walking towards you. “Just thought you might get lonely if you had to go all the way back to camp alone.” You told him, placing your hands on his collar.”That so huh?” He looked down at you, his blue eyes wild with desire.”Yea, that’s so.” You gave him a wink and looked at his bruised face and crooked nose. “Can I fix that?” You asked pointing to his nose as he tried to wipe the blood from his mustache. You put your fingers on either side of the bones, it was defiantly broken. “What are you gonna do to-AH!” You reset the bones as he spoke, best to catch him off guard. “Better?” You asked. “I don't know, it hurts to bad to tell yet.” He said annoyed. “You’re a devil woman sometimes you know.” You laughed at him and pulled him into a quick kiss. 

 

“Well darling, we’d best get back to camp, we’ve got a lot of backing to do.” He said, gently pulling away. “I suppose so.” You said, watching Arthur climb on his horse. He offered you a hand and pulled you up behind his saddle. You wrapped your arms around him and took in his familiar smell. “I’m gonna miss bunking with you.” You told him, your voice muffled by your face in his back. “Ah who says we cant still bunk together after this? Your tent has plenty of room.” You smiled at his response. “That's fine by me, Morgan.” You told him. “Now let's get back to camp so we can get out of these damn mountains,” He told you, pushing his horse into a trot.


	12. Update

Hello all!

I am incredibly sorry that I haven't been posting the last couple weeks, school has begun to get crazy busy, and I'm struggling to find time to put in the time and energy this story deserves. I will do my best to have a chapter done in the next week! Once Finals are over, I will be able to post more consistently, thank you all so much for reading and for your continued support. Hang in there, chapters are coming soon!

All the best,

Mountainmarie


	13. We're out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Arthur are out of the mountains, and out to the gang as well...

The next day was the lightest day you’d had in what felt like months. The weight of Blackwater and the hardships of the mountains seemed to fade away and drift behind you, like the cold-smoke that leaves the peaks as the wind takes it away. You took a deep breath as your gelding walked behind the wagon that Arthur was driving, he, Charles, and Hosea manned the wagon as you rode behind them leading their horses in a pack string. Each switchback that dropped you lower in elevation felt like a godsend, you never had felt so eager to ride for long hours like this before. 

 

The trip was relatively uneventful, save for Arthurs wagon losing a wheel. Hosea had picked the spot you all were headed to; that meant that it was not only going to be safe, but it was also going to be beautiful. Oh man, were you right. Horseshoe Overlook was a beautiful meadow, surrounded by forest and overlooking the valley below. You finally felt like you could breathe easy as you unpacked the panniers and began to unsaddle your horse. 

 

“Hey, Darlin.” You heard Arthur’s familiar voice as he poked his head over your horse's withers after you’d just pulled the saddle off. “Hey, Cowpoke.” You said, giving him your best cheeky smile. His smile seemed to drop behind his mustache and he gave you the stink-eye. “Now why’d you go and call me that?” He walked from behind the horse and began to follow you to a canvas tarp where you were putting your saddle. You set it down and laid the pad out to dry before turning to him. “Call you what honey?” You smirked, knowing you were getting under his skin.

 

“You know darn well what.” He stood in front of you and placed his hands on his hips and shot you a look that left you wondering if it was loathing or lust in his eyes, you hoped it was the latter. “What? Cowpoke?” You played coy and continued to unsaddle the rest of the horses while he followed to help you. “Y/N. I ain’t kidding, that dog just ain’t gonna hunt.” He was undoing the cinches in a fervor as he spoke, all while looking at you with that same look. “Oh sure it is Morgan, You couldn’t hurt a fly.” You said, not daring to look at him.

 

You heard him pull the saddle off the horse and you did the same, following him to the tarp where the tack was being put. “You have seen me kill people..” He said. You watched as his bow-legs shook his hips slightly and you couldn’t help but giggle at the cowboy you loved. “What the hell at you giggling at now?” He put the saddle down and turned to you, a smile was tugging at the corner of his mouth and you knew you had him where you wanted him. “Oh nothing, Cowpoke.” You said, giving him your best strait face.

 

His jaw went slack as he tried to stifle an angry laugh. “Huh. That how you wanna play?” He looked at you, his eyes hungry for something. “I’ve no idea what you’re getting at.” You said, stepping towards him. You grabbed at his silk wild rag and pulled him closer. “mmmhmmm.” You heard Lenny clearing his throat to your left and realized that you were in front of everybody. You sheepishly pulled back and looked at the ground, hoping Lenny was the only one who saw you putting the moves on Arthur. 

 

The day was slipping to dusk and you looked around at everyone putting up their tents and getting their things settled in. You looked at your saddle and bedroll and knew that since all your stuff was left behind that you ‘d be stuck under the stars or bunking with Grimshaw. Though you enjoyed Susan, you’d rather sleep in the elements than be forced to hear her snore. Even though you wanted desperately to just bunk with Arthur, you didn’t know how he’d feel about telling everyone about the two of you so soon. He had made the comment about bunking together after leaving colter, but you didn’t want to assume.

 

You looked for a dry and flat spot that you could lay your bedroll out on. The sky was caller so you were safe from the rain and you knew that Pearson kept the fire going most of the night so the likelihood of you serving as predator bait was slim. You found a spot under a tree and near Arthurs tent, just in case.   
The sun had begun to set and you found yourself, along with most of the gang looking at the sunset. You admired the colors that painted the sky and the way the sun seemed to promise better things to the west, but those better things would have to wait as you all were being forced east. You felt a hand slip around your waist and looked to see Arthur holding a cup of coffee with his free hand and smiling at you. You smiled back and looked towards the sunset. “I saw you putting out your bedroll outside.” He said, taking a long sip of his coffee. “Yea.” You replied, unsure of what he was going to say. “Do you not want to bunk together anymore?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

 

You felt your cheeks go flush as they always do when you’re around him. “Well no, I mean yes.” You felt your mind going blank and beginning to fluster. “I mean yes I do want to bunk together, but I just didn’t want to impose and assume.” He let out a small chuckle and took another sip of his coffee. “Impose?” He asked, “Darlin I’ve seen you stark naked, picked you up out of a puddle of your own blood, and saved you countless times, but you’re worried that assuming we’d bunk together is an imposition?” His words were peppered with little laughs and you knew he was right. “Well alright mister, pardon me for trying to be polite.” You said as he looked at you over the steam of his drink, "Well, I figure if I bunk with you tonight, then everyone will know about you and me." You said, looking at him and waiting for approval. "Y/N, I don't give a damn what they know or don't." You looked at him and grinned as wide as your face would let you. “Get your stuff and put it in my tent, that is unless you’ve become a high society woman through all this politeness.” He stated. You rolled your eyes at him and headed towards where you’d laid your bedroll.

 

After putting your bedroll and dutch’s coat in Arthur's tent, you made your way to the fire where Pearson was dishing out stew and Dutch was smoking one of his signature cigars. Arthur was sitting next to Micah and you watched as they shared some words back and forth and both laughed at something. You couldn’t help but smile and you wondered and hoped that maybe there was something good beneath the terror that is Micah Bell. 

 

You grabbed a plate from Pearson who gave you an extra spoonful with a wink and made your way to the log that Arthur was occupying. Arthur turned to face you and looked at your plate, then back at his own. “What the? Why do you have more than me?” He asked, sounding genuinely upset. “Pearson likes me more.” You told him flatly. He rolled his eyes and kept eating his food while looking longingly at yours. “Arthur, you’re almost as bad as that dog you used to have, those eyes aren’t gonna work on me.” You told him, instinctively guarding your plate.

 

“What?” He looked offended. You raised a brow at him and shook your head. “If you don’t eat it all though, I get the leftovers right?” He asked.”Fine.” You said, he turned back to his plate and seemed content. You were full by the time you were halfway through the plate, but just to spite him, you ate every bite. “Damn Y/N, I’ve never seen you eat that much.” Uncle cooed from across the fire. You gave him your best shit-eating grin and looked to see Arthur’s disappointed face.

 

After the fire had died down and the gang began to turn in, you quietly made your way with Arthur to his tent. “What if you and I run into town tomorrow?” He said, grabbing your hand as you opened the flap and entered the tent. “Sure.” You said, “What for?” He sat on his bedroll and began to pull his boots off. “Well, you’ve got no other clothes than the ones you’re wearing and quite frankly, you’re starting to smell and that’s not gonna work if we’re gonna be sharing a tent.” He said, looking up at you with a sarcastic grin. You suddenly became very aware of the fact that you’d been wearing the same clothes for over a week now and that he was probably right. “Oh shit.” You said aloud, having fully come to realize what he was pointing out. “Yea, oh shit.” Arthur said, “That's what you smell like.” he laughed.

 

You turned to face him and he held out his hand. “No!” you exclaimed, playfully pulling back your hand. “Apparently, I’m too smelly!” He stood up from where he was sitting and grabbed you around the waist, “Oh darling, that don’t bother me any.” He said, before planting a kiss on your lips. As much as you wanted to pull away and continue to sas him, you couldn’t help but melt into it. The two of you teased each other as you stripped down to your union suits and you were fast asleep in his arms within minutes of crawling into the bedroll.

 

You began to get warm as the morning came and you felt Arthur kicking his covers off onto you. In your sleepy stupor, you kicked them back on him, this went back and forth until Arthur finally pushed them to your feet. You felt his arms wrap around you and a smile invaded your face. You laid like this for a long time, drifting in and out of sleep in happy contentment.

 

Arthur finally fully woke you with his lips on your neck, leaving a little trail along your jaw and cheeks. “What time is it?” you asked, stretching your arms and sitting halfway up. Arthur reached over to where his trousers were and grabbed out his silver pocket watch, He looked at it and started to laugh. “What?” You asked, sitting fully upright. “My watch must be off because it says its half past noon.” He said, turning to you. “No way! I’ve never slept that long in my life.” You exclaimed. “Nor have I,” Arthur replied, laying back down. 

 

He began to close his eyes again and you watched him for a second before nudging him.”Hey!” You half shouted at him. He opened his eyes and mumbled something you couldn’t understand. “We’ve got places to be, Arthur.” You told him, eliciting a whining groan in response. “Take me to town and I’ll take a bath.” You offered. With that, he sat up straight and said, “Alright.” 

 

The two of you got dressed and you tried to comb your rat's nest of hair, but it was hopeless, so you just put on your hat and called it good. You came out of the tent and saw most of the gang sitting around the fire and some others were scattered around reading or playing dominoes. As soon as Grimshaw saw you it was like she had given some secret signal and the whole camp looked at you and Arthur. “I was wondering where you slept, Miss Y/N,” Susan said, standing up and looking down her nose at you. You felt the hot flush of your cheeks turning red and you looked to Arthur for support. He had the same shade covering his face and he pulled his hat down over his eyes.

 

Tilly looked at you with wide eyes and a smile while Abigail yelled: “I knew it!” She hit John in the side as she yelled and he muttered an “Ow.” Lenny and Hosea just smiled at you while Pearson said, “Wow, I had no idea.” In the fakest tone, you’d ever heard. You felt like you should explain yourself, but nothing was coming to your mind or your mouth. “Alright!” Arthur growled, throwing his hands in the air. “Y/N and I are courting or whatever, we're together, or we're, whatever it's none of your damn business what we are and that’s about enough of all that starin.” You were thankful that Arthur took the initiative in the situation and you tried to ignore all the murmurs as everyone went back to whatever they were doing.

 

You turned to him and grabbed his vest. “Thanks for that, sorry I didn’t have anything to say.” You said, playing with the mother of pearl button on his lapel. “Don't worry darlin, you can pay me back later.” He said, giving you a wink as he grabbed your hand. “What?!” You heard Micah from being you and saw him just coming out from the woods. “You two are fucking?” He pointed at you and Arthur. “Shut your damn mouth Micah and go do something worthwhile like put your head under a wagon wheel!” Arthur yelled, real anger in his voice. “You’re a little late to the party,” Bill said, looking at Micah’s shocked face.

 

“Come on.” You said, taking Arthurs hand and leading him to the horses. “Let's go to town and forget about him for a while.” Arthur smiled a devilish smile and followed you.


	14. Take a Bath Please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Arthur head into town for supplies and a couple of baths.

You marveled at the town of Valentine. So many of your younger memories seemed to sprout up, but when you were there as a child there was only a church and a brothel, the two staples of a western town. You looked at all the shops, seeing all the goods you wanted to buy and smelling the lamb stew made your stomach grumble. You and Arthur hitched your horses and you followed him into the general store. 

"I figured that we could start here, get you some new clothes." He said, holding open the door for you to walk in. The man at the counter said something about a catalog, but you headed straight for the section of tailored clothes in the corner. You began to look through the pants and collared shirts when the man at the counter spoke up, "Pardon ma'am, but that's the men's section." He looked at you over the rim of his half-moon glasses. "The Lady's clothing is over there." He motioned to a pile of silken dresses and narrow heeled, lace-up, boots. You rolled your eyes and returned to what you were doing. Pulling three pairs of pants and a few striped shirts you headed to make sure they fit. Arthur watched as you walked towards a back room.

Everything fit and when you came out, Arthur was looking at the cans of pomade on the shelf. You walked over to him and looked a the tin can he was fondling, "More Pomade huh?" You said, looking at him from beneath your lashes. "Got a big date or something?" He rolled his eyes at you and put the can of pomade on top of the pile of clothes you had in your hands. "No," He said, giving you the stinkeye. "You got your man clothes, Mister?" Arthur asked, facing you to see your reaction. You glared at him, waiting to see how long you could stare at him until he got uncomfortable. He looked right back at you, a slight smile, no reaction. The man was an Oak. 

You turned on your heel and walked towards the register, glancing at the women's clothes to your left. A white, silky, high collard blouse caught your eye and it looked to be just your size. You grabbed it and tossed it on top of your pile of clothes and Arthur's Pomade. "Now I've got my lady clothes too, Maam." You said, winking at Arthur. The cashier tallied up your items and gave you a questioning look as Arthur Paid the bill. "Arthur." You whispered low, pulling out the money from your pocket. "Hush Darlin." He said, handing the man cash. You quieted yourself and the two of you walked out of the store with your items in hand.

Arthur squinted in the sunlight as he looked around the town. "Arthur," You said. He looked at you. "Why did you pay for this? That was a lot of money and I very well could've bought it on my own." He just smiled at you. "Well darling, I figure if I want to keep you around then I'd better start investing in ya now." You felt a blush rush across your face, but you did your best to mask it by grunting and turning away. "We'd best find us a bath." You said, changing the subject away from Arthur's sweet statement. "There's one," Arthur said, pointing to the building across from the store. "After you," You muttered over the pile of clothes.

Arthur led the way into the hotel. "Welcome! What will the two of you be needing today?" Arthur looked over the list of services and set the paper back down. "We will take two hot baths and one room." He looked at you and winked, then paid the hotel manager. "You'll be in room one." The manager said. You felt the heat rise within you and knew that you were probably the color of an apple. "Miss?" The hotel clerk asked. You looked at him, suddenly aware that he was watching you. "Huh?" You said. "I can take those to your room for you while you bathe." You nodded, suddenly unable to speak and handed over the pile of clothes in your hands. The man turned and began to carry them upstairs while two young ladies led you and Arthur to the baths. The women kept flirting with Arthur, you knew it was their job and likely their only source of income but it was starting to make you mad. "So cowboy, You need help in there?" The busty brunette asked Arthur. You felt your ears fill with steam and you turned to face her. "No ma'am, he doesn't need help. Besides if anybody was going to be helping him in there, it'd be me." The woman muttered a sorry and the two ladies left you and Arthur standing in the hall.

After a moment you realized what you'd done and felt a shame begin to wash over you. Arthur began to laugh. "Well damn honey, I wasn't so sure you were the jealous type." You looked up at him and offered him a shit eating grin, the shame of the moment before disappeared. "Well Mr. Morgan, there may be a lot about me you won't be so sure about." You said, opening the door to your bathroom and winking as you went inside. You looked at the steam coming from the bath tub and had to hold yourself back from just jumping headfirst into it. You undressed quickly and all but dove in. The hot water slightly scalded your skin, but it was a welcome discomfort to the constant cold you'd been immersed in. You scrubbed every inch of yourself, from getting soap in between your toes to lathering your head in shampoo. After you were as squeaky clean as you could get, you laid back and relaxed, letting the tense stresses of recent events fall from your mind and into the water. Thoughts began to drift towards the last bath you'd had and how that was when Arthur had finally kissed you. The thoughts made you miss him and after a long while, you thought that you'd better get out and get something to eat and see Arthur.

After drying off, you looked to see that all you had with you were your filthy clothes you'd been wearing for the past couple weeks. You picked them up and gave them a smell; they reeked. You weren't about to put them back on and ruin all the hard work you'd put into cleaning yourself. You looked around the room and found a silk robe hanging in the corner, grabbing it you wrapped yourself up and grabbed your clothes, opening the door and hoping that you could beat Arthur to the room and get dressed. The Girls who led you and Arthur to the baths were gone and the hall was empty. You kept your eyes to the floor and began to make your way through the parlor. The Hotel manager was speaking to a customer and you heard his voice waver as you walked passed. Making it to the stairs, you walked up as quickly as you could, turning a corner and heading towards the door that had a big "2" on it. 'Room two.' you told yourself as you found it and opened the door.

The room was quiet, save for the slight flicker of an oil lamp on the nightstand. You closed the door and went straight to the pile of clothes that were folded on the bed, as you pulled a blouse from the pile, you noticed that it wasn't one that you'd bought, in fact, it was one you'd never even dare to buy. "What the hell," You said aloud, continuing to pull clothes from the pile and wonder who's they were. It was when you made it to the corset at the bottom of the pile that you realized your mistake. "Fuck me." You whispered. You were in the wrong room. Just them you heard the doorknob begin to turn and you weren't sure of what to do. An older woman with spectacles and a tight white bun opened the door and let out a loud "Oh!" in surprise. "What on earth are you doing in my room?" You scrambled thinking of what to say. "uh" You stammered. She looked you up and down her round glasses reflecting the light from the lamp behind you. "Didn't you order some...company?" You asked, throwing your hand on your hip and trying your best to look seductive.

The woman looked at you, a disgusted look crossed her face. "Why I would never." She pulled her hand to her chest as she spoke. "You think I would order company?" You looked at her as she began to explain how she was a proper lady. "I'm sorry ma'am I must've gone to the wrong room." You said. She straightened her head and looked at you. "I just go where the lonely call!"You exclaimed, trying to sell your part, but knowing that no saloon girl had probably ever said that. She seemed to lighten at that statement, however. You grabbed your clothes from where you'd dropped them on the floor. "I'll be going now." You said. "I do get lonely." She said suddenly, looking up at you. "Pardon?" You said, shocked at her sudden change of heart. "I've never," She cleared her throat. "I've never ordered company, but maybe I should? Are all the girls here as handsome as you are?" She said, offering you a slight smile. You stood there, jaw slack, not knowing what to say. "I-uh, yes ma'am." You croaked, starting to make your way to the door. Just before you reached it, she put her hand on your shoulder, "Its been a long time, but I bet you and I could still have some fun." You felt your cheeks get hot and a laugh start to bubble up in your belly, pushing it down you replied. "Yes ma'am." and shot out the door as quick as you could.

You made your way to the room next door with a big 1 on it, hoping that this one was actually your room. How could you ever explain what had just happened to Arthur? He'd poke fun at you forever. You opened the door and saw Arthur sitting on the bed writing in his journal. "Oh thank the Lord!" you exclaimed, your presence making him look up from what he was doing. You threw your clothes on the floor and joined him on the bed. "What are you going on about girl?" He asked, setting his stuff down. "It's a long story." You laughed. "Are you naked under that?" He asked, suddenly turning around to put his hands on you. "Yea," You said, suddenly aware that you had his full attention. "Well, it's a good thing I ordered room service then, cause I sure as hell ain't taking you anywhere dressed like that." He said, looking at you with a big smile. "Morgan, this is a robe, I'd never actually wear this in public." You explained. "I wish you wouldn't wear it in front of me either." He said. You looked at him and that familiar shit eating grin crept across his face. "I'll change my clothes then." You said, standing up to grab some. "That ain't what I meant darlin." his husky voice came out as a breath upon your back and you felt his hands grasp your shoulders. "Oh" You managed to croak out, desire suddenly filling you. You felt his lips kiss your neck and brush across your ear. "How did a fool like me get lucky enough to land a woman like you?" He whispered gently into your ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that my updates have all been so spotty. Life gets crazy but it should start to slow down here soon and I'll be able to be more consistent in my writing. As always, thank you immensely for reading! I hope you all enjoy!


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